


Erhmargherd Murdurn Gurl In Thedus

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Series: Brainfarts That Ruin The Ozone Layer [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Asexual Cullen Rutherford, Asexuality Spectrum, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, Humor, Modern Girl in Thedas, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Attraction, One-sided Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Panic Attacks, Recreational Drug Use, Slow To Update, Writer's Block, battling the writer's block, grey asexuals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another Modern Girl in Thedas you neither wanted nor needed!</p><p>Valerie has the worst luck, as of late. And then she finds herself in Thedas. Fun, right? Well....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvodka/gifts).



> Ladyvodka insisted I give this trope a go. If anything, this light writing will give my writer's block a kick in the danglebags.
> 
> Not a fan of ingame dialogues in fiction. I imagine as it goes.  
> Expect nonsense.  
> Cullen is one big headcanon here.  
> Even tho' the relationship of Inq/Cullen is tagged, it is kind of romantically one - sided in the beginning. So if you expect a lot of Cullen and Lavellan fluff - turn away now and spare yourself some sanity.  
> This is a literate dumpster.
> 
> Love you all, let me know what you think. If there is anything to think about... this XD

"Oh I did _not_ just do what I think I did..." I rubbed my eyes and blinked nervously as I double - clicked the .psd file called 'CulRuth's dick VIP bwahahaomg'. Oh, I see you arching your eyebrows over there. Yes, I name my files like that all the time. An artist has her own joys, even if these joys are as infantile as the said artist's stunted mentality of a twelve - year - old. As the Photoshop started loading, my eyes absentmindedly gliding over the many names of the developers responsible for this wonder that lets me do my job, I heard fridge opening in the kitchen and my stomach rumbled, shamelessly reminding me I skipped the dinner yet again.

In truth, it had been the end of the month and I did not have money left to spend on groceries. The commision business had been slow but I got by. That is, until some dimwit had backed into my poor old Fiat Panda and sped off into the sunset, leaving me stranded at the mall, crying ugly tears of hate as a dialed Mary, my roomie. My poor Pandaren, as I called my car, had been towed away to the nearest garage, where I spent the rest of the day, nodding and smiling. When I had finally popped on the doorstep of our apartment, Mary welcomed me in but quickly moved aside, when she glimpsed pure and undiluted murder in my eyes. I _think_ I might have screamed and had thrown things on the ground but I could not find anything being broken afterwards, so that last part may have been wishful thinking. My Pandaren would live to fight another day but my poor bank account pretty much went up in flames. Mary, bless her charitable soul, said I would not go hungry but I tried not to abuse her kindness too much.

In attempt of getting a bit of cash as fast as possible I posted on Tumblr, desperately announcing that I will draw nearly anything one's heart desires. Including nudity, something that always made me somewhat uncomfortable. I had no problems with others doing it but my own creations with _reproductive organs_ attached to my favourite characters made me feel a bit iffy. That is when my fellow Cullenites jumped me from the depth of the Internet. All of a sudden I had several messages per day about the loveliness of my art (these were not uncommon) and how great that I was open for NSFW requests(these were new ). I took a deep breath and put my personal issues aside, diving deep into the prolonged descriptions of how people wanted to see _their_ nude Cullen pin - up. There is silver lining in everything, though. If I had to draw naked video games characters, at least they were the characters I loved as well. In my timid fantasies, however, the stalwart Commander had always pants on.

This brings me back to the accursed 'CulRuth's dick VIP bwahahaomg'.psd. Of course I messed it up. In my non - coffinated state I had forgotten to save good three hours worth of progress, happily clicking away all the warnings about unsaved files.

"Why would I click 'no'?" I whispered miserably, staring at the screen. Next came my famous terrifying pterodactyl shriek, making Mary pop her head into my room with a concerned mother - hen expression plastered all over her freckled face.

"Val?"

"I'm fine. Fiiiiiiine."

"You did _the_ shriek."

"I just lost a lot of progress because my brain is a potato," I hissed, looking over my shoulder. "No! Even potatoes are more useful. You can make a battery out of one of those."

"Maybe you need a little break? What about that game you had been replaying over and over again?" Mary chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Her nerdiness started and ended with Snoopy and she found my fascination with gaming 'adorably quirky'. "Ice Age, was it?"

"Yes, I gather the armies to march against the evil prehistoric squirrel and its acorn," the image in my head made me grin like crazy. " _Dragon_ Age, M."

"Just chill, woman."

And 'chill' I did. First of all, I rolled a joint from the remains of my weed, safely tucked away. To be honest I do not remember where I got it. It was 'a friend of a friend of a cousin's mother knew the neighbour of the dog' kind of situation. The blasted thing stank to high heavens but it did the job of helping to calm my nerves. As soon as I felt the mellowing effect taking hold, I launched the game, looking at the start menu where endless rows of templars and mages were marching towards their doom at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Despite knowing what awaits these poor pixel people I always found it to be a very calm and relaxing animation.

Apparently today was not my day, for instead of clicking 'Load Game' I had successfully chosen 'New Game'. Whatever happened next... Frankly, I still cannot understand it. At all. And I swear on my hamster's grave I was not _that_ stoned. The green explosion was so bright that it made me cringe and squeeze my eyes, turning away from the screen. Next came the aftershock.


	2. We're not in *Insert City name Here* Anymore...

With a thud I landed on _something_. Now, I have a skinny ass some people might call 'a dream'. I fit in any pants I ever tried on. On the first try. Nevermind that I buy new pair only when it is absolutely necessary. On several occasions I have been complimented on looking 'smashing' in skinny jeans. But back to asses. Ladies (and gents), let me tell you a secret. Padding is _important_. All pales in comparison with being able to just sit in a chair without feeling your booty slowly turning into one big and numb bruise. Now about my landing pad... 

I had been temporarily blinded by that 'explosion', my eyes seeing nothing but technicolour dream stars. So the only trustworthy source of information were my ears. The thud, I noticed, sounded metallic and the something I fell on was, in fact, someone. They huffed and I felt them shifting underneath me.

"Exactly how many more women are yet to fall out of the sky?!"

I felt myself being lifted and put on the ground, where my feet had sucessfully gave out and I sat in something cold. And wet. Oh god please let this not be a puddle of... well anything, really. The stars that were clouding my vision had finally subsided and I found myself staring at the pair of boots. Boots that were older and dirtier then the source material had ever led me to believe. My gaze traveled further upwards, noting the templar vambraces, the surcoat, the - Right. I should have known the moment I heard the voice. _The Voice._ Yes, it has to be capitalized. For the irritated tone of the one known as the Commander Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisition had been my secret kink for quite a while. Not his questionable stuttering (I am quite proficient in that myself), not his soft sappy confessions and professions of love towards the Inquisitor... No. It is when his tone turned angry, impatient or unpleasantly surprised, there would be this harsh and irritation - lined intonation in his voice. It made me kind of... Swoon? Do not judge me.

So there I was, on the ground, staring at the Commander who stared right back at me in a rather suspicious manner. The first thing I thought - I was stoned out of my flipping mind. But there were no pink elephants (these did come occasionally to talk about political issues when I had a bit _too_ much weed) and I did not feel sleepy or slow and the man in front of me looked quite real. The first thing I _did_ \- reached out and rubbed the edge of his fabulous surcoat between my fingers. It felt real enough. The second thing I thought was and I quote 'Crap on a cracker, am I the _actual_ Modern Girl In Thedas?!' Yes, I read fanfiction and I do have my guilty pleasures. Don't we all? If I was the beloved trope though, shouldn't I be, like, the Inquisitor? In some sort of petrifying horror mixed with an unhealthy doze of excitement, I lifted my left hand to check if I had the fateful mark. And, of course, there was nothing. Just my luck, a damn nobody. Do not get me wrong, I did feel quite a bit of relief as well - leading the Inquisition would be well above my social and mental capabilities.

"Would you kindly let me go? This is no place for the likes of you." Cullen's voice made me blink in confusion, my ears getting red when I realized I still kept clutching to his surcout. Then they got progressively redder as his words sunk in deeper.

"The likes of _me_?!" I screeched in righteous anger. So if I am a woman it means all I am good for is kitchen? The gall! The nerve! The - 

"You are not a soldier. Or am I wrong?" he asked impatiently, eyes directed at my chest. I shrugged my shoulders wondering what was so interesting beneath my collar bones as I followed his gaze and looked at my shirt. Oh for the love of - I had been wearing my Grateful Dead t - shirt which had band's logo on it, without the name. To an uneducated Fereldan (or any plebeians unfamiliar with the music scene) I looked like a member of a biker band, a cultist or a mercenary. Do the latter wear leaky canvas shoes too?

"I -"

"Commander!" a voice had called out from the other side of the ruins making me turn around, eyes peeled wide open for the Seeker and the future Inquisitor. I have to admit, I was curious. There were three Inquisitors living in my computer - two elves and a human. I, kind of, prayed for the male Lavellan because he had been my favourite. The human Trevelyan was making all the wrong decisions and the female Lavellan was a bit of a self - insertion - but - not - really. 

As the two figures came close, my heart dropped - the Lavellan next to Cassandra was _her_. The Mary Sue, the Wishful Thinking Incarnate. Crab - like I shimmied behind the Commander's broad back, hoping I would not be noticed. Amyra Lavellan was modeled after myself but turned out much prettier. Her actions were my actions but she was stern when needed, polite and cheery when required and got along with _everyone_. The kind of person I desperately wanted to be in high school. Cassandra might have been oblivious to my presence but the Commander was not blind. I felt his hand close around my arm as he fished me out and gestured widely in my general direction.

"This is the second time a woman falls out of a rift," Cullen declared as his eyes darted between me and Lavellan, getting wider by the moment. "And they look... alike?"

"Do you know her?" the Seeker demanded viciously and I felt a sting of jealousy as I watched the carbon copy of myself just stare the woman down, an eyebrow arched. Cassandra, on all accounts, was a scary lady. I loved her as a character but she had temper issues and I would _not_ like to be on a receiving end of her righteous anger.

"Never seen this shem in my entire life," Amyra confessed and tapped her foot impatiently. "Now, where's the Breach? I'm on borrowed time here."

"Follow me," Cassandra said curtly and nodded at me, making the will to crawl under a rock so overwhelming, I might have gulped loud enough to be heard on the other side of the Veil. "As to this woman, Commander, take her back to the camp and keep an eye on her. Once we are done here, Leliana would certainly want to talk to her."

" Good luck," Cullen nodded and gave both women a strained smile. "May the Maker watch over you."

He, then, proceeded to walk towards the camp. When I refused to move (not out of stubbornness but out of sheer stupor), he muttered something inaudible and, in one swift motion, tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

And, I admit, I felt like one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I don't even know. This is still going somewhere xD Also, it is 1 AM here, time to sleep!! 
> 
> Kisses and cookies to all!


	3. Do You Even Smoke?

This is a dream. No wait, a nightmare. Regardless, this is not real and I should wake up _just_ about now and go yell into the void about my awesome Dragon Age planescape travels. Any moment now... No? Really? Well, _shit_.

The small room inside the Haven's Chantry was full of people. There was me, sitting in the chair and listening to the soft soggy sounds inside my shoes. The Herald sat next to me. She might have temporarily disabled the Breach but she was not out of the woods yet. The Seeker kept circling around the room, her eyes boring holes in my head from various angles. The Commander manned the doors, blocking the only possible escape route though he looked as if he wanted to use it himself. And Leliana... The Spymaster wore a pleasant smile on her face but the eyes told of different intentions. I shimmied uncomfortably as I felt a bead of cold sweat roll down my spine. 

"What is your name?" Leliana looked at me, her tone calm and emotionless.

"Valerie White." I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers nervously while trying to keep my eyes locked with hers, as much dread as it brought me. My mother always said that only liars avoid the gaze of others. Clearly, she was not familiar with the concept of social anxiety but neither were these people. I was, as they say, in a pickle. My eyes darted sideways, noticing how relaxed the Herald looked. Curse that Mary Sue _so. very. much._ Is she - Is she eying Cullen?!

"Where are you from?"

Oh, the fun part starts. How do you even answer such question? Like, what is Thedas? Is it a planet? A weird continent? I could say I am a Free Marcher, they are a weird bunch of mixed heritages and cultures. Or - 

"I... don't remember..." I felt my face pruning dangerously. Or, you know, I could cry like a nervous wreck that I am. Mother Nature had given me many questionable gifts. The most prominent one was to stress - bawl when least expected. Or needed. There were four pairs of eyes on me and all I could do was sob grossly and be weirdly amused how uncomfortable both Cassandra and Cullen had become.

"There, there." Amyra reached out and pet me on the shoulder with that annoying elven grace of hers. Right, I also made her very compassionate. The perfect Inquisitor. She would give a coin to every drifter, she would adopt every kitten... Hell, she even liked _Solas_ and, as it turned out in the Tresspasser DLC, wanted bring him back to the light side of the Force. Me? I felt mildly betrayed and wanted to poach that egg. But you know - roleplaying. She was just _that_ perfect. 

"What do you remember?" Cassandra's attempt to sound nice was admirable. She had stopped with the predatory pacing and tried to soften her voice - something she clearly was not very good at.

"Falling out of the Breach and landing on, ah, Commander Cullen."

I must have said something wrong because everyone, save the Herald, were staring at me once again.

"How do you know my name?" Cullen pushed past the Seeker. His voice sounded soft but the lines on the face had hardened, nothing but suspicion in his eyes.

Great. Just flippin' marvellous. I dug my own grave, offered to step in and covered myself in a nice layer of dirt to make the job easier for everyone involved. There is no way I can explain this. Oh, what the hell? Oh, Flying Spaghetti Monster, see me kneel...

"I smoke weed!" I yelled out desperately. When the stares changed from suspicious to puzzled, I had to quickly correct myself. "I am a - a frequent elfroot user! I am not proud of that fact but I get by." Thank you for that one, Tumblr.

"And this explains things... How?" Leliana asked, an amused smile on her face.

"Well, ah, provided enough elfroot I can, ah, get mixed visions about... stuff. Sometimes."

Smooth. Real smooth. I could have claimed to hear it from one of the wenches at the tavern. I have not been to the tavern but I bet the Lion had a bunch of secret groupies gossiping about him in the dark corners. But no, no rest for the wickedly dumb.

"What's with the glaring?" the Herald had suddenly snorted and crossed her legs, eying the trio in front of us. "When consumed frequently and in big quantities, elfroot can induce a state of clairvoyance. Keepers often use it for the beneficiary predictions. And you, shems, often use it... _recreationally_."

Leliana and Cassandra exchanged looks and then both of them turned to me, making me pull my head in the shoulders, looking like a guilty puppy.

"What else did you see, then?" the Spymaster asked, her stormy - grey eyes tracking my every twitch. Clearly she was hoping to hear something about the murder of the Divine.

Oh the stories I could tell... That Solas is Fen'Harel, that he started this whole mess. That Corypheus is messing with the Grey Wardens as we speak, that - But if I _do_ say any of this, the storyline might alter itself and who knows what will happen. This seemed to be anything but a dream and as such I felt responsible for every single piece of information I might reveal. Gotta think carefully about this... I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Commander Cullen will eventually wind up having a very unintelligent mabari for a pet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When in doubt - smoke elfroot!


	4. Nugs: Saving Lives and Giving Clarity

What is my life? I used to ask myself that question a lot. Now I was asking it every day. Just my luck - to become a trope and yet turn out to be completely and utterly insignificant. And I really do mean _insignificant_. After the initial introductions and my very questionable implications of being clairvoyant, Leliana sat me and the Inquisitor side by side and got straight to business. We were both closely examined, the resemblance between us simply uncanny. It stumped her that I was a human and Amyra was an elf and yet we could easily have been twins. You know what would be even more hilarious? The Qunari Inquisitor that looked exactly like the Commander. He was in the works in my head and had never actually been created. Imagine the field day the Spymaster would have trying to crack that one! But no, it _had_ to be Amyra Lavellan. Fate sure had a sense of humour. And if Maker did exist, he must have been rolling over the floor laughing himself comatose about this whole situation. 

Lavellan spoke first. I knew what she would say but now it sounded so cringeworthy my face must have looked as if I had swallowed several lemons. One of the best archers in her clan, smart and shem - world savvy. Aware of the Maker, familiar with the Chant of Light... A total xenophile, if I ever saw one.

"And you, Valerie?" Leliana turned to me, shooting one of those supposed pleasant smiles in my direction. "What can you offer?"

"I - Well -," I started mumbling again. I did that a lot recently and hated myself for it. Mumbling had always been the worst of my sins and I thought I had overcome at least _that_ annoyance. Clearly, ending up in a new world did not qualify. "I can, ah -"

Now I sounded like Cullen. Fantastic! But what _could_ I possibly offer these people? I could drive a car. I could make bitchin' stir fry. I could... I could...

"I can paint and draw," I lifted my chin up, looking directly at the Spymaster. "Oil, coal, ink..." Pen and pencils too but I was not sure pencils existed in this universe. They probably did not. I would not risk finding it out the hard way. "Landscapes and portraits."

A quill and a piece of parchment landed on my lap, Leliana's willowy fingers holding a small inkpot.

"Show me."

For the first time in a very long while I felt in my element. Being a giant hipster I even knew how to use a quill - Mary got me one for my birthday, together with some high - quality ink. I exhaled and took the small inkpot, dipping a quill in and scanning the room. Then I started sketching. I felt stares - Leliana did not invade my space but Amyra was hovering over me like a hawk, watching the process. When I was done with the last details of the surcoat, I drew a nug in a raincoat and tiny booties, and then quickly sketched a dragon, making it somewhat archdemon - y, for the purpose of own aesthetics. As I handed the parchment back to Leliana, I saw her eyebrows fly up in - what I hoped to be - appreciation.

"The Commander is -," the Spymaster had finally said."Well. the face expression... It depicts perfectly the long stick that is stuck up his -" she coughed and passed on the next one. "The other ones are great too." 

I could swear I saw Leliana blush slightly as she pointed at the nug.

"What... What is it wearing? It looks adorable! I absolutely need to get this for Schmooples!"

But of course, I completely forgot Leliana being the nug lady of Thedas. Nug lady. Get it? Like cat lady but with nugs? I always loved the little creatures and thought they looked like shaved rabbits. Mary had a cute little fluffball of a rabbit called Binky. Boring, I know. Binky may have looked cute but he was a notorious asshole and I threatened to shave him more then once. 

"What a cute nug _you_ would make!" I would often coo menacingly, wiping yet another smelly puddle off the floor.

"It is a yellow raincoat.... Tent - like material that shelters you from rain. And so do the little boots." Do they even have raincoats in Thedas? Plenty of tents but I had never seen a single raincoat. Maybe in Tevinter or Orlais - they were spoilt and deviant enough to invent something like that. 

Lavellan watched us squeeing over nugs, deep crease between her eyebrows. Clearly, she was not used to being a third wheel in any conversation. When the first careful cough was ignored, the elf clapped her hands, making us both turn in her direction. I was startled, Leliana looked annoyed.

"Are we done here? I have to meet up with Solas."

My muscles tensed at the mention of the name. _Damn. Fucking. Apostate hobo. Egg._ But also - great character. But still - so infuriating. Hearing him chuckle and being all happy always made me rage and flip the bird at the screen. _Double - crossing, sneaky... UGH!_

"You should not trust everything he says." I blurted out, regretting it almost immediately.

"How come?" Amyra sounded surprised and I noticed the Spymaster straightening her back.

"He... he is..."

_... Goddamn Fen'Harel!.._

"An asshole." 

Tomayto - tomahto. Close enough, if you ask me. The intensity of the glares did not subside and so I thoughtfully chewed on my bottom lip for a while.

"I consider myself a good judge of character," was my answer. "The moment I saw him - as _brief_ as it was - I got the weird vibes from him. That elf looks like someone who loves the sound of his own voice. All I'm saying, Lavellan, be wary. You'll thank me later."

Or tear my head off when the Tresspasser timeline rolls in and everyone will see the elf for who he really is. I would feel rather happy to be gone by the time _that_ ship sails. 

Amyra gave me a rather suspicious look and left, leaving me alone with Leliana, who pursed her lips together and was scanning me from top to toe. I bet she wanted to get into my head. Would really advise against it, for it was a place of unspeakable horrors.

"Anything else you would like to share?"

"No, that's it," I shrug my shoulders innocently and pointed at the paper that was still in Leliana's hand. "So... The verdict?"

"Your skill is remarkable, Valerie," the Spymaster answered softly. "You will work under both mine and Commander's supervision. In the field you will work closely with Scout Harding, for your eye for detail will prove invaluable for mapping new areas and their landmarks."

Holy cupcakes, I was actually promoted to a scout. The little voice in my head had immediately made sure I was aware of all the things that would attempt to kill me in the big and hostile Thedas. But I was too excited to be bothered by that right now. And, apparently, I would be working with Cullen as well. That part sounded very exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Solas... The feels I have about him... Mostly expressed in cursing and shaking fists at the screen in impotent rage, that getts worse every time a playthrough is finished.


	5. We Just Shared A Moment Here

So yeah, there I was... Hiking up and down with the squad of scouts and drawing things. Leliana and Cullen needed _everything_ \- vantage and choking points, caves... Down to every bump on the flipping road. In the very beginning I made a huge mistake of making several notes regarding the best positions for small group of soldiers and it had bit me back like whoah - the Commander was nothing in not appreciative and indebted and urged me to continue my perceptive mapping. Did I mention that his handwriting was as if he had stuck a quill up his arse and wiggled it enough to produce words? It would take me ten to thirty minutes - depending on the length of his request - to read the bloody missive. All those fanfics that made his handwriting all nice and willowy and such - pure wishful thinking. I would not wish this upon anyone. In fact, you know what would get rid of Corypheus with the same level of effectivity? The Commander of the Inquisition writing him pages upon pages of mind - numbingly dull reports.

But where was I? Eh, I do not remember. What I _do_ remember is Josephine cornering me and telling me I need to make portraits of the small council and the Herald, so she could send them to be copied and used for some medieval equivalent of promotion. She had procured quality oil paint and the likes and I buckled up for the very long and traumatic experience. First was the Herald. Since she was always on the road I sat her up to do some minimal planning and then shamelessly used myself as a reference. Took about two weeks. I could not stand looking at myself anymore but the portrait was finished and received positive reviews from both Josie and Leliana, who was known to be the pickiest. Another month and a half was spent at the two advisor ladies and, finally, it was the Commander's turn. Once again, I had been dragged aside and this time around ordered to make him look as handsome as possible. I nodded sheepishly and hid a grin - it was a safe bet that the first interested parties would be inquiring about the Lion of Honnleath and his lineage soon enough. And let us be honest - farm boy or not, the gene pool that man possessed would make noble ovaries scream in excitement.

And then came Redcliffe.

The portrait was half way done and today was yet another seating. I have been carefully laying out my brushes and preparing the paint when a flap of the tent flew open and I turned around to see Cullen, who closed the flap with a huff, obviously wishing it was a door to slam. He looked frustrated. Flustered, brows knitted together and lips nothing but a thin line.

"Something's the matter, Commander? Should we, perhaps, postp - "

He slashed the air with his palm, cutting me off mid - sentence.

"No. Do your job." Cullen answered curtly and pulled up a small wooden stool on which he had settled down in a rather angry fashion. His voice had that angry twang that made my insides clench.

_...Oh hello there, voice kink. How have you been?..._

"C - Commander?" I asked carefully, scared he might toss something at me. "Can you turn a bit to the, ah, left?" I watched him do so and nodded to myself. "Yes, thank you. Keep still."

And so he had been sitting and slowly fuming while I had been painting even thought I could draw that man with my eyes closed. But tell me this, would you not use the opportunity to stare? The square jaw, the honey - coloured eyes, the curve of the lips, the -

"Maker take the Herald!" Cullen barked out suddenly.

I was so in the zone that my hand gave a slight tremble and I botched the curve of the eyebrow.

"Fucking shit - balls!" I yelled out, forgetting myself and then caught him staring, blush creeping on my cheeks. Normally people knew better then bother me when I was drawing. I once threw a paperweight at Mary when the poor soul brought me some tea. I felt like a grand asshole after that and had profoundly apologized - it turned out I have never warned her about my artistic rage. "You were saying?"

"I should not talk about discussions that take place within the war room." he muttered, looking rather torn between guilt and anger. Two plus two still equals four, I figured and poked my head from behind the easel.

"In - Lavellan wants to go with the mages, doesn't she?"

"How do you - "

"I have a particular set of skills," I quoted, feeling smug for being able to use the phrase so timely and tapped the middle of the forehead with my index finger. "Remember?"

Cullen sighed but the look on his face was the one of relief. He obviously wanted to vent to somebody - _anybody_ , really - but he could not go around telling the underlings about what happens behind the closed doors. But if an underling somehow knows the story already...

"The mages they are... Unreliable. You can't trust them. Especially now."

"But Seeker Lambert slapped the Chantry sister in front of everyone. How is that any better?"

"He is _Seeker_ ," Cullen argued, palms clutching at his knees. "Templars are not his to toss around as he pleases. But the Breach... It is dangerous magic. Pouring _more_ energy in it is madness!" desperation in his voice was almost palpable. "Templars can suppress it, make it stable..." Cullen fell silent, staring at the floor.

I pondered for a moment. I was not pro - mage. Not pro - templar either. There were valid arguments for and against both factions and, in the end, Chantry was to blame for everything. So I could call myself anti - Chantry, I guess?

"Commander, your mistrust in mages is understandable, considered what had happened to -," I bit my tongue seeing his eyes getting wider with every passing second. Well, curses. Think Val, think! " - to Kirkwall. Considering the Gallows," Cullen had relaxed visibly but still shot me a suspicious stare and I swear I sweated through the whole three layers of my ugly scout leathers. Everyone knew about the mage uprising in Kirkwall. Many had heard about Knight - Commander Meredith and her Knight - Captain. I exhaled slowly - a close call, no doubt. "But templars are no saints. Humans are still humans. There were and always will be power - hungry mages _as well as_ templars. Don't judge many based on few."

_On Uldred. On Anders._

I stared at him for a good minute and Cullen had finally averted his gaze, clasping his fingers as the leather of the gloves creaked softly.

"You make fair point, Valerie... May I call you that?" I nodded and watching him stand up and head towards the door. "It will take time but it will be better."

To anyone else the sentence sounded very out of context but not to me. I knew what he was talking about - about his past. About the hurts inflicted upon himself and others. About the long and winding road to recovery.

"It will get better, Commander." I grinned at him, trying to look reassuring.

_...But at first it will get much worse. Red lyrium everywhere, no-shit-giving-Magisters and Fen - fucking - Harel. Not to mention - ..._

Cullen paused in the doorway and shot me an awkward smile - corners of his mouth barely lifting up.

"Thank you."

"No problem, Commander."

"Cullen." he corrected me before the door closed behind his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I do anything that has no angst in it? No, no I can't. Even crack has to have angst. What is my life???
> 
> But hey, Val and Cullywully might be becoming friends? She knows the poor confused dude better then he himself does.


	6. Becoming A Human Shield, Figuratively

Did I mention the joy of the outdoors that came with my new 'job'? Or, should I say, assignment? If anything, I felt _very_ blessed at that point. Both my parents were - and still are - total nature nutjobs. Fishing, teaching a poor child how to survive in the wild on nothing but roots and berries, digging own latrines and using leaves to wipe your ass. Sometimes they were poison ivy leaves. Thanks for that, Dad. But, as they say, fool me twice...

I had been pleasantly surprised Thedas was familiar with a necessity that is toilet paper. It was rough, unprocessed and definitely did not have four layers but it was better then nothing. Latrines still had to be dug out behind the forward camp but I weaseled out of that activity, on account of preserving my hands from any unexpected injuries.

My hope of staying in the safety of the camp was dead before I even knew it. Scout Harding took me everywhere. Sure, it made sense in theory - I had to sketch all the landmarks but in practice it turned out to be me, covering in fear behind bushes and hoping for the best. I had been the butt of every joke since the first time I saw a bear and ran away screaming. In my defence, I had _totally_ applied the distraction technique. You know, the kind they teach you in the normal world? Make enough noise for the bear to think you are too much effort. Apparently, here it was common to just stick them with a pointy end. And by 'them' I mean _everything_. Bandits, nugs, bears, darkspawn... And dragons, don't forget those. When I told there was one in the Hinterlands, nobody believed me even though I had the best of intentions. They, of course, _had_ to be sure there was one, so the almighty Herald of Andraste might avoid it. As if! Amyra Lavellan would charge that dragon faster than anyone could make a sound. Scout Harding, bless her soul, called the retreat as soon as she saw several dragonkin, who were lazily roaming around - they were the good indication that the mother was nearby.

So this, in a nutshell, was how I ended up on the training grounds. One can only take that much jokes before drawing a nasty caricature or two of the particularly venomous squadmates and get reprimanded for that. So I went to where I knew the Commander would be in a hope would come up with something. After all, Cullen was the one who supervised the military training and he could be able to help.

As it turned out, I was hopeless. The one - handed sword was too heavy for me to swing. The attempt to use a bow was so pitiful I shall not even go there. Crossbow had nearly dislocated my shoulder. After observing me fail with every weapon possible, Cullen rubbed his face slowly and sighed.

"You are the most unskilled person I had ever seen in my entire life," he said as nicely as possible, watching my face drop in utter defeat. "Even farmers and fishermen amongst my soldiers have better skill then you do."

"You are the beacon of solidarity and confidence, Cullen," I mumbled, fiddling nervously with my gloves and huffing in frustration. "In my wo - Where I come from, all of this is _quite_ outdated. Only larpers use fake swords and morning stars and they are huge nerds."

"Larpers? Nerds?" he asked as his eyebrows flew up in surprise. "I've never heard of - "

"Oh believe me," I waved dismissively. "They are their own kind of breed. I mean... don't get me wrong - I'm a nerd and am damn proud of it. But those people, they take the crown. They make their own props and stuff, they known elven... Admirable, if you ask me."

"So your people," Cullen said slowly, looking confused as he awkwardly rubbed his neck. "These _'nerds'_ , are they from far up north?"

"North in their mama's basement!" I snorted, watching him purse his lips together in frustration as he was unable to understand anything I just said. And then realization hit me like a belated brick in my stupid face - I might have told a bit too much. Cullen had that effect one me, especially after our last painting session. To remedy the situation I came back to the problem at hand. "Is there nothing I can do to be battle - worthy? Even a bit?"

Cullen had quickly snapped back into his 'Commander' role - a comfort zone he was very happy to permanently stay in. He rubbed his chin with a hum, eyes studying the tips of his boots.

"How's your throw?"

"My what?"

Cullen kneeled on the ground and scooped up some snow, quickly making a snowball out of it and dropping the cold thing in my hands.

"Toss it over..." he scanned the surroundings and pointed at the training dummy. "There. Bonus points if you actually hit the dummy."

There was a slight change in his tone and he gave me one of his rare and suave smirks - the Commander was getting cocky. I jerked my chin upwards, accepting the challenge and took my aim. The dummy was a bit far away but this is where all my childhood Winter Wars would _finally_ come in handy. The ball hit the dummy in the arm, making it spin around once.

"Bombs is your best bet, Valerie," Cullen's voice was suddenly near my left ear, making me jump in surprise. I guess I was so concentrated, I did not hear him approach. "Ice, fire.... You might not be able to kill an enemy on your own but you'd be an excellent damage support," he kept looking at the dummy, where the snow stain was still quite visible. His voice became softer, unfamiliar tutoring intonations in it. "Bombs have area of effect, so even if you _did_ have precision problems - which you do not - you would still do damage. Having an aim gives you greater advantage. However, you hit an arm but your primary target should be directly underfoot or the torso. So work on that."

My jaw must have been somewhere on the ground while he was talking. Cullen had given me a fighting advice, something I always wanted to see him do in the game and never really did. Cullen Stanton Rutherford, the Commander of the Inquisiton had told _me_ , a nobody, how to throw theoretical bombs at the enemy. With maximum efficiency. Dare I say 'squee'?

" - do realize targets move? Practice on nugs."

"W - What?!" that sadist did not just ask me to throw grenades at nugs, did he?

He blinked at me, confused by my outburst for a moment.

"Oh you though - No, not like _that_. With the snowballs. If you can hit a nug, you can hit anything, really."

I wanted to thank him but all of a sudden I saw Cullen straighten up, his jowls tightening and I looked over my shoulder to see Lavellan walking in this direction. I wanted to make myself scarce because I had a very ominous feeling about the topic of the conversation but a hand had suddenly curled around my arm, making me squeak in surprise.

" _Stay_ ," the Commander hissed under his breath and forced a polite smile as the Herald stopped before us. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I was wondering if we could talk, Commander," she said shyly and threw a suspicious stare at me. "Alone."

"Forgive me, Herald, but Scout Valerie has to stay." he answered sternly, and I saw his fingers twitch nervously.

This was.... Weird. Unexpected. I did not recall Cullen reacting this way when I played as my Lavellan. Right now Cullen looked tense and extremely uncomfortable and the Herald had not even start with the fun part yet. I eyed him for a moment and then looked at Amyra, who seemed quite innocent for a person that was planning to ask someone about their virginity or lack of thereof. They started talking and I allowed myself to space out, purely because I have heard this conversation too many times.

"So... Do templars take those chastity vows?" Lavellan's sly voice burrowed into my ears, making me pay attention again. "Did you?"

I snapped my head back to Cullen. If this goes as it should, the stalwart Commander should start blushing like a maiden right about now and stutter adorably. And you know what? He did none of those things. In fact, Cullen sized the small brash elf with narrowed amber eyes, lips nothing but a thin line and crossed arms on his chest - a position that was clearly indicating he was very much done with her prying.

"I do apologize, Herald," he answered dryly. "But this is a private matter that I am not willing to share. Now, if you do not mind, I have business to attend to."

With that he seized me by the elbow and pretty much dragged me away. I saw Lavellan's face contorting with what might have been both anger and determination. And if I knew her well - and I did - the Cullen hunting season was about to be open. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The faboulous ladyvodka taught me how to be Bear Aware (TM) and I taught Val.
> 
> Also, take that, creepy Inquisitor! Who asks a man they hardly know if he had taken chastity vows or not?!


	7. Back To The Future

Both Cullen and I saw the Inquisitor off early in the morning. The elf was heading to Redcliffe castle to parley with the Tevinter mage called Alexius. You can imagine the Commander’s reaction. Ever since the whole outburst over Lavellan’s ally choice, Cullen could not let the matter go and insisted she takes the templars as well. Anxious as he was, the Commander stated he would be coming along to supervise his underlings. His decision was not a popular one but since Lavellan held no actual leading position _yet_ , Cassandra’s vote had tipped the scale in Cullen’s favor.

 

Once the dubious happenings in Redcliffe village had transpired, the Inquisitor had to agree, albeit rather begrudgingly and off the record, that the presence of the templars came in handy. Everyone was too preoccupied with Fiona’s words and the revelations that had followed shortly afterwards to pay me any mind. Apparently, all this had been so shocking and unexpected,no - one needed my clairvoyance skills.

 

The Inquisitor had flat out refused to take any templar escort to her meeting with the magister but did accept a handful of scouts that were, in my opinion, much more quiet and efficient than a walking siege tower in clanking armor. And let us be honest, Alexius was smart and _probably_ did his homework regarding the newly - founded Inquisition. An ex - templar as a military advisor would surely make him place appropriate wards within his castle. Like, I mean, that is Mage Rule number one in every universe ever - ward _all_  the things, isn’t it?

 

Anyway, as I said, nobody missed me. Lavellan and her posse left for the castle, the Commander was either fuming out of his ears or freaking out somewhere and I kept wandering around, exploring the place in a weak attempt to draw my thoughts away from the certain upcoming doom. Enter “In Hushed Whispers”, where the world will be plunged into the darkness and despair starting… Now. No? This was driving me insane. Don’t know about other people, but the game never gave me the sense of proper passage of time. How long does it take to get to the castle? To walk its huge halls and exchange empty pleasantries? Meanwhile, no-one but me knew what was coming and I could not tell a single soul in order to let the events run their course. I wondered if the time will freeze and we will all wake up once Lavellan is back? What if she never gets back? Denying my observations was pointless - there had been more and more deviations from the storyline I came to know through multiple playthroughs. They were small enough but have you heard of chaos theory? The ‘Butterfly flaps its wings while somewhere a hurricane kills thousands’ stuff? I really did not want to end up on the butt end of the ripple effect.

 

Suddenly, my face had firmly plated itself into something metallic and I hissed, feeling warm blood trickling down my lips. Mother always said it was a bad habit to walk with your eyes to  the ground. Ha, I wish I was walking!

“Maker, Valerie!”

Is this fate or something?

”Sorry, Commander.” I licked my lips, cringing at the strong metallic taste on my tongue and threw my head backwards, pinching the nose bridge.

 

A white handkerchief landed on my face. So far, so good, for it felt clean. You may laugh now but would you accept a gallant offer if it was stained with the gentleman’s snot? Yeah, thought so.

 

“Why were you in such a hurry?” he asked me, hands crossed on chest and looking both surprised and amused. I snorted carefully to check if the bleeding stopped but kept the handkerchief pressed to my nose. It smelled of leather, mostly but I swear there was a bit of honey in there too.

 

“Was I? I was just exploring a bit… Did you know they have a statue for Warden Surana here?”

I saw Cullen’s eyes flicker back and forth and he straightened his back slowly, jowls tightening.

 

“Yes. The Hero of Ferelden has saved the village from an annihilation by the undead during the Fifth Blight.”

 

“Why the clenched face - expression, Commander?” I asked jokingly and regretted it immediately, for Cullen shot me an irritated glare.

 

“This is rather private,” he said coldly and turned around, facing the water front.

 

I was staring at the ground, thinking how I just killed any relationship we might have built when I heard a soft gasp and lifted my head to look at the source. Then I froze - the green light lit the castle from the inside and the the next moment Cullen grated his teeth and dug fingers in his hair,bright red blood trickling from his nose and onto the breastplate. Clearly he felt the impact of the magic collision between Alexius and the Inquisitor. I grabbed Commander’s arm trying to attract his attention and then something hit me from behind. Not physically, thank God, but for a moment I felt as if something sucked the air out of my lungs. Coughing, I turned around just to stare down a void of the rift that had opened right behind us. I could make out some vague shapes within the eye, some colors. And red, I swear I saw red. The rift was growing, creeping closer with every passing second and, as I looked around, I saw there was nowhere to go. Well, I could have jumped into the water but I could not leave the disoriented commander behind. Not to mention the man would definitely drown with all that armor on if he attempted to follow me. And so I did the only thing I deemed logical at this point - dashed back to Cullen, ‘Saving Private Ryan’ style, and toppled the man to the ground, pressing my hand against his head, desperately trying to prevent him from standing up.

 

“Brace for a rough landing, Commander!” was the last thing I yelled before the green glow had swallowed us whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like Michael Buble, I crawl out of the cave... Not because it is Xmas (yet) but because it frustrates me to no end that something I had created to battle Writer's Block became the victim of it as well.
> 
> I am so sorry I had not updated for so long. none of my fics are forgotten and I think about them a lot. It is just very difficult to write. :C I am not happy with this chapter but at this point I am happy I've written something and I will appreciate every comment and kudos. it warms my heart to know that people are still interested.
> 
> Cheers,  
> Garbage.
> 
> And, it seems we are heading somewhere very dark and full of red horrors. Cullen better beware.


	8. Oh Crap Part 1

Please be home, please be home. The chance of that was slim but what if? What if I open my eyes and am greeted by my rather messy room? I would welcome every dirty sock, every dust bunny. Hope dies last, they say. Well… mine was nipped in a bud. As I opened my eyes and looked around I have been greeted by the gloomy fereldan architecture. But on a positive note - there were dust bunnies _everywhere_. One was sitting right in front of my nose and I blew it away, absentmindedly watching the fluffy monstrosity float sideways, indifferent to the troubles of the world.

My fingers slid down something that felt like fur and I, being myself, immediately freaked out about it being a rat. There is nothing quite as sobering as suddenly realizing you had a handful of garbage eating, disease spreading rodent.

“What happened?”

Oh sweet Jesus, it was just Cullen. Still shuddering on the inside I automatically rubbed my hand on my pants, to get the imaginary rat fur feel off my skin. I eyed the Commander for a moment, watching how he sat on his heels and shook his head slowly. You know what, I will bet my life savings that the next thing he says will be -

“Where are we?”

Gotcha, I don’t have any life savings. Have a lot of debt, though. But anyway, his question made me snort out loud - a weird sound in such a place - and I stood up, offering the man before me a hand. It was very tempting to say the punchline but it would be wasted on the likes of Cullen.

“Commander, if you keep sitting like this, I might take it as a certain proposal, if you will.” I joked and grinned in delight as I watched tips of his ears flash red. He popped right up, ignoring my hand and brushed off his pants. Such cinnamon roll, that one.

While the ‘proverbial pastry’ was gathering courage to speak up, fighting against obvious embarrassment, I took my time to look around. This place looked like a cellar. Not the type where the Inquisitor and Dorian had landed, for this one did not have us standing knee - deep in water. The discovery was both heartwarming and discouraging. Staying dry had been an obvious pro. Having no clue where we were, however, a huge - ass con. Redcliffe castle was not big - for a castle - but every second we stalled was added towards the probability of us getting stuck in the future. Permanently. I was disposable enough - a sad fact of life I did not want to think about since the moment I fell onto Cullen near the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Commander, however… Somehow Bioware decided to elevate a simple stuttering templar to the rank of military strategist that would be irreplaceable and thus it was my duty to bring this tactician savant back to Haven in one piece.

My hand was on the door handle when I froze, realizing another unpleasant complication to this already rather nasty situation. I had Cullen with me. An addict that was trying to quit. In the dark future full of demons and lyrium, the _red_ variety.

__Well, shit._ _

I took deep breath, feeling my brain going in overdrive in a desperate attempt to come up with solution. _Any_ solution would do, really. But of course, when I needed my wits the most, my head felt as empty as an old coconut.

“Cul - Commander, this is important and I need you to trust me.” I started, picking at my fingers nervously and staring at the wall behind his shoulder. Ah, my good old friend anxiety, how have you been?

He stepped closer, arching eyebrows in an unspoken question. Dammit he is so fine… I want to touch that hair.

_Shit, Paul, this is not the time!_  

During the moments like this, when my brain flat-lined on me and would start suggesting utter nonsense, I called it Paul. Because why not? Variety is the spice of -

“There is red lyrium in here, loads of it. You might,” I swallowed loudly and fidgeted, scared to say something improper and tick him off. I could not let him know that I was aware of his secret. “Might touch it. It is not good for a templar to come in contact with it. Varric, ah, he told me about Knight - Commander Meredith…”

Naturally, Varric told me squat. With all the field missions I was on, I hardly had any time to make my acquaintance with any members of the Inner Circle. Cullen, however, did not know that and he was familiar enough with dwarf’s talent to disclose personal information to random people.

Color left his face and Cullen crossed arms on his chest, just to drop them to his hips a moment later. He was nervous.

“I understand,” he answered curtly, avoiding my gaze. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well…” I mumbled and chewed on my bottom lip. “I could bind your hands together behind your back. If that is okay with -”

“Do it,” he answered softly and turned around, placing wrists together behind his back. “And you better know your knots, Valerie.”

Oh I did. What girl scouts failed to teach me, my outdoorsy parents sure did. The main problem, however, turned out to be much more trivial - there was no rope. I unbuckled the belt that held my potato sack of a tunic in presentable shape and quickly wrapped it around Cullen’s wrists. There was just enough length to do it twice and still be able to properly tighten the makeshift bonds so they would not slip.

***

The problems started soon after we had left the cellar and entered the narrow hallways of the castle. Servant passageways was my best guess. I asked Cullen to walk ahead so I could monitor his hands, most of all. It would be easy enough for him to turn around and try to break off a small cluster of the vile stuff that was all around us. Crystallised veins of lyrium ran up the walls, morbidly reminiscent of veins within a living body. Here and there crystal formations protruded from the walls but they were small enough to walk around, even tho we did encounter several clusters that blocked the doors, forcing us to take an emergency turn.

First came the headache. Mild but rather annoying. I don’t know what I was expecting, probably was hoping I would be like the dwarves and be at least resistant. But, for all intends and purposes, I was just your average boring human. This was a real bummer when you saw every other fictional Modern Girl ending up as the Inquisitor or at least had _something_ cool going on for her. And here I was, becoming a dearly beloved trope only to, once again, realise I am not a majestic Mary Sue every self - insertion aficionado strives to be.

Cullen’s twitchy fingers distracted me from the self - pity galore and I focused my gaze, noticing that he started straining against the bonds. It could be that the arms felt numb. At least I really hoped -

“Untie me, I am fine.”

_Hope, meet wall._

“We both agreed it was better this way.” I mumbled, trying to sound confident.

“I changed my mind. Untie me and that’s an _order.”_

Oh boy, he sounded mean. Not the sexy pissed - off kind I was a quiet fan of but almost… malicious, if you will. He turned around and I swear I thought maybe he had already taken lyrium without me noticing. Just the expression, the posture - it all looked completely unlike the Commander I knew both in person and in game. It dawned upon me then. This whole place was infested by the red stuff. It was in the ground, in the walls, in the _air_. Cullen did not need to ingest anything to start getting aggressive and paranoid - breathing the air for someone who craved the stuff on the cellular level was enough.

“How about we postpone it just for a bit?” I proposed and squeezed past him, praying for the next room being a cell block where I could temporary lock him up and hopefully find the Inquisitor and Dorian. As the door opened, I was greeted by a courtyard, muddy and slippery from the rain. Seriously, I could not catch a break _but_  this would have to do. I vaguely remembered this place, there were only two doors - the one I jut opened and the one on the other side. Cullen pushed me aside and walked in, his front turned to me and watching my every move. I slammed the door shut and quickly picked up a rock, breaking the handle off in one successful hit.

“Why you -”

“It is for your own good!” I yelled out as I tried to run past him, only to be shoved to the side by at least two hundred twenty pounds of muscle and steel. I fell into the mud and the next moment Cullen’s heavy boot landed on my back, preventing me from standing up and that is when I _really_  started to flip out.

“Let me go! The Song is messing with you!”

“I thought you were on my side! You abuse my trust, get in my head and then leave me to rot just like the rest!”

“The only thing getting in your head is lyrium, you idiot!” I screamed angrily and kicked, hoping to hit his other leg, the one that was on the ground. As poorly aimed as the kick was, I did hit him in a calf with the heal of my boot, making the Commander huff and momentarily lift the weight off my back. This small delay allowed me to push myself up, effectively shifting Cullen’s balance and toppling him over.

“I will come back for you, I _promise!_ ”

I heard him bellow my name with such fury that my insides pretty much froze over like it was the new ice age. I only managed to slam the other door shut and break the handle  when something (or, rather, _someone_ )rammed in the other side of it, making durable wood shudder and creak.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

And then I started crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how in the beginning I said this would all be crack?
> 
> **I LIED.**
> 
> If there is a way to torture Cullen and bring in some discord, I will. Because I am a troll under the bridge that loves to break things I love. And I love Cullen. And my sweet summer child Valerie.


	9. Oh Crap Part 2

Evidently, I was not crying out of self - pity! I was just stressed, okay? Would you not be if you were suddenly tossed into an alien situation and your only companion was hating your guts because some red stuff in the air told him to? I mean, why does it always have to be me? Why did universe decide that this particular nobody was not happy in her small comfy apartment in front of the big - ass computer screen? Okay, well maybe there was _a bit_ of self - pity. And you know what? I deserved it. There was nobody around to pat me on the back, saying ‘there, there’ and a girl has to get by. 

It took me a while to notice that Cullen had seized all violent activity and, holding my breath, I decided to peek through the keyhole.

Worst decision _ever_.

My gaze was me by a golden iris with a pupil so constricted it was but a small dot. Like that of a wild animal. I hissed something rather obscene and pulled back, realizing that the Commander was staking me out in case little daft Valerie opens the door.

I tried to dry my tears with a dirty sleeve but the waterworks just kept coming - it seemed my own body decided to screw me over, would not be the first time either. But right before I plunged deep into the pits of ‘woe is me’ I have heard footsteps.

Sobbing in relief I darted towards the sound. Ideally it was the Inquisitor and her companions. Several much more sinister options had briefly crossed my mind but at this point my already quite rudimentary self - preservation instinct went into a power saving mode.

“Inquisitor!” I blurted out, as I burst into adjacent corridor and got momentarily blinded by light. The good news - I did not immediately got zapped into oblivion, so I either had completely terrified the enemies by my dirty and miserable form or I did, in fact, stumble upon friendlies.

“Scout Valerie?!” Amyra’s voice, for once was full with genuine concern. It seems the element of the surprise had masked my lapse in titles.“What are you doing here?”

I opened my mouth but all that came out was non - coherent bubbling and - yes, you have guessed right - more sobbing. I wish I had been as composed and dignified like all those other stoic heroes stuck in here but I was not. This whole ordeal was one of my not - so - graceful moments, rivaled only by the first two days of kindergarten. But you will never know the truth about _that_. I will take it to the grave!

“Allow me.”

Dorian’s soft fingertips had gently touched my temples and I could feel tendrils of warmth crawling underneath my skin, chasing fear and helplessness away. As soon as the light stopped burning I opened my eyes and smiled at the mage in front of me.

“Thank you so much, Dorian, that really helped.”

“And they said I would never be famous!” he flashed me one of his dashing grins and stepped aside, letting the small but rather noisy Inquisitor through. Lavellan looked surprised and troubled, there was no trace of her usual passive - aggressiveness. Not yet, anyway.

“How can you be here? What happened?” she grabbed me by the arm.

“I was in the village when another rift opened. It had swallowed me and the Commander and we woke up here.”

“Creators! How come you are always around when weird stuff happens?” he nails dug in and I winced. She posed a fair question but I had a good reply ready.

”So are you, _Herald_.” I answered rather boldly, throwing the elf a daring stare.

“I wish I had a counter - argument for that one,” Amyra sighed lessening her grip. And then her eyes flickered side to side, clearly searching. “Where is Cullen?”

”I, uh - I locked him up in the courtyard. He is unwell, the lyrium -”

“Herald, let me handle this.” Cassandra’s tall frame had stepped from out of the shadows and beckoned me towards her.

I have completely forgotten that Cassandra was among Inquisitor’s party that morning. I quickly looked around but apart from Leliana, who was keeping to herself, there was nobody else. The lyrium had claimed the others, it would seem.

The red poison had seeped deep into the Seeker, nothing but resistance and will still keeping the woman afloat. Cassandra’s face was pale and gaunt, her eyes faintly glowing with the same maroon color. When she spoke her voice had a metallic sound to it - just like I remembered it from the actual game. Still, seeing it now was nothing like watching it on the screen.

“How bad is it? Did he touch the lyrium?” she asked softly, lowering her voice. It took me a second to realize that even now she was keeping Cullen’s secret safe, just like he had asked of her.

“No. I bound his hands and watched him very closely. I know of his… _issues_ ”

“He told you?” she looked rather surprised.

“No… But that’s not important. What matters is that the Song made him rather -” I paused, searching for words. “Angry and paranoid. He attacked me and I had to run, I did not know what to do -”

Cassandra rested her hand on my shoulder, surprisingly gentle for the person of her height and complexion, and turned towards the rest of the group.

“Commander will be fine as soon as I get to him. However when I do, I will not be able to aid you in combat, Herald, as I will have to keep my hold on Cullen.”

“Well, we do have a rather nice addition to our team, it seems.” Dorian was seriously a ray of sunshine in this dreary place. I heard Amyra snort dismissively behind him and pursed my lips together - as tactless and rude as she was, there was no point in denying the truth - I _was_ pretty useless. I did open my mouth to argue but then just shook my head and marched back in the direction I came from, clearly indicating time for pointless (and rather diminishing) chatter was over.

The narrow hallway had quickly filled up with people and the Inquisitor pushed past me, pointing with her staff at the door.

”That’s the one?”

I nodded, shifting uncomfortably as the memory of Cullen’s savage stare flashed in my mind.

“Herald, I advise you to stand away as you cast,” Cassandra said sternly as she took a heavy - looking shield in her left hand. “In his addled state the Commander might revert to his templar habits.” Saying that she pressed her back against the wall and nodded to the Inquisitor. Lavellan frowned, lips soundlessly moving as she began casting her spell and a moment later a bright bolt of lightning rolled off the tip of her staff and darted towards the door, exploding on impact. With a thunderous cracking the wooden panels gave way, to an opening through which Cassandra had slipped into the courtyard.

They say the curiosity killed the cat but I was _dying_ to see an actual Seeker in action and so I poked my head through the doorway just in time to see Cassandra’s hand grabbing Cullen by the neck. The Commander froze then, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open and I swear I could see dim blue lines pulsate underneath his skin, snaking from under the Seeker’s fingers.

_No way! Is she controlling Cullen’s lyrium?_

Cassandra placed her shield on her back in one swift motion and walked towards us, the Commander following her closely. Her hand was still on his neck and now I was absolutely sure I saw the lyrium - enriched veins branching out from under the Seeker’s fingertips. As I peeked into Cullen’s face I saw only a distant and blank expression, eyes so dull dead fish would be jealous. I felt bad for him and I really hoped that whatever Cassandra was doing would not lead to some mental issues later. I mean, extra mental issues. After all, Cullen was pretty covered in the angst and PTSD departments.

“We are wasting time.” Leliana’s voice rasped from behind me and I _might_ have jumped up nervously. It was the first time she spoke since the moment I have joined Dorian and the Inquisitor and her voice sounded like nails on the chalk board.

“Well it is not as we are in a hurry, world’s ass - deep in demons anyway.” I mumbled to myself and joined Cassandra, who was walking at the tail of our small procession, her palm still pressed firmly against Cullen’s skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well apparently there will still be part three. I am just really not a big fan of long fanfic chapters. -_-
> 
> Valerie is a sobbing mess here. I would be too, I don't blame her. Cullen is still fucking scary.
> 
> Another mess are commas and tenses in this chapter. I don't even know. Sometimes grammar just goes on vacation and stays there. :B


	10. Oh Crap: The Grand Finale

The hallways were endless. Endless, I tell ye! Redcliffe castle was not even that huge on the outside, compared to, say, Winter Palace (not the Russian one, that one _is_ huge). Leliana was leading us towards the throne room, choosing the safest and the fastest route. I could not see her face but I bet if it was up to her, she would take a scenic detour and kill every single moving being in her way. And I mean _every. single. one._ Probably including the cockroaches. She was a scary woman before and now she was absolutely terrifying.

Occasionally the spymaster and two mages had to fend off the enemies, leaving Cassandra, myself and catatonic Cullen in the adjacent quarters on account of our inability to fight. I could see the Seeker feeling rather antsy, she obviously wanted to be where the action was. But without her influence Commander would come to and probably try to make balloon animals out of my intestines.

Right now we were doing exactly that - waiting as the pro - active trio rushed ahead to close one of the lesser rifts that popped up in a dining hall or something. The silence was killing me and so I timidly looked up at the tall Seeker, anxiously fiddling with my fingers.

“Cassandra, can I ask you something?”

The woman hummed and raised her eyebrows, inviting my question.

“How long ago had Cullen stopped taking lyrium?”

“A month before Redcliffe events,” Cassandra answered, eyes watching the corridor ahead, ready to seize the conversation the moment companions would come in sight. “He had been slowly reducing the dosage shortly after leaving Kirkwall.”

“So he never went cold tur - I mean he did not stop taking it abruptly?”

“You know quite some things concerning lyrium. For an outsider,” the Seeker glanced at me suspiciously but then her face smoothed once again. “No matter, you are not for me to figure out, not anymore.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. This was my opportunity to open up. _This_ Cassandra was not real. She would seize to exist when the past was corrected but maybe she could help me _here_ and _now._

“All I want is to help,” I started, trying to level my gaze somewhere in the region of Cassandra’s eyebrows so it looked like I was keeping eye contact. “To keep things going as they should, for as long as I can.”I have noticed the Seeker giving me one of those stares that made me throw my arms up in the air defensively. “Don’t give me that look, I am not a demon.”

_Though sometimes I wish I was, would surely make my life so much easier. I guess. Somehow._

“Quitting lyrium all together and at once is a dangerous process. It had been done before and the results were… poor.” Cassandra spoke finally, interrupting my musings about the pros and cons of being a creature of the fade. “He was eager to do it, with utter disregard for the consequences and I convinced him to start reducing the intake instead. A month before the events that brought you here, Cullen took his last potion.”

“And when will the withdrawal symptoms set in?”

“Soon enough.”

Great. Marvellous, really. Hmm… What else is going to happen ‘soon enough’? Right, the attack on fucking Haven. I felt like punching myself in the face for no other reason but being caught in this whole situation. Before I managed to act on my strong and rather compulsive feelings, the Inquisitor had graced us with her presence. And I say ‘graced’ with a healthy dose of sarcasm, because Lavellan looked anything but graceful. She rolled in, hair looking like an owl’s nest and excitement twinkling in her eyes.

“That was a rage demon back there. Dorian handled it amazingly.”

“That is one of my greatest qualities,” the Tevinter brushed off some dust off his tunic, picking on a shredded piece of sleeve with a face full of disappointment. “Demon extermination is always a costly task.”

“Did you kill that many?” I asked dryly, having my own doubts on the matter.

“It is not a Tevinter dinner party without at least five blood sacrifices, one of which bound to be performed by an imbecile.”

Once again Leliana, tired of all the yapping, interrupted the banter and reminded us about the end goal. Turned out we were not all that far away from the throne room and five minutes later we found ourselves in front of a heavy door. Last I remember, for the purpose of gameplay it was some super special door that required a generous energy donation or some such. This was not the case here, thank god. Just imagine coming to a door and realizing you have missed a crystal or two. So you have to backtrack like a noob that you are, swearing like a sailor while sweeping every corner for that one last remaining objective. And of course it is the one at the very beginning, it always is.

But I have trailed off once again. Dammit, brain!

As the door was pushed open, Dorian went in first, closely followed by the Inquisitor and Leliana. Me and Cassandra, as per tradition, were trailing behind and I made sure to shut and bar the door behind us. If memory served me right there will be a horde of demons teleporting to our doorstep soon enough. Meanwhile Amyra had engaged Alexius in a conversation and, as I came closer huffing from the effort of closing the massive door, I heard the magister speak, a trace of gloat in his voice.

“How quaint for you to arrive here, at this particular moment in time,” he grinned bitterly and turned around, facing a big and tacky fireplace. “I have failed and am about to pay for my mistakes. Mayhaps the Elder One will find satisfaction in killing you as well.”

Well, what do you know? Closing that door turned out to be the brightest idea I have had all day. It will not keep demons away for long but it -

I noticed a shadow moving swiftly around us and soon enough Leliana materialized behind Felix, grabbing the ghoul and jerking him upwards, thin blade pressed against man’s throat.

“This ends now, Alexius.”

The magister’s fingers twitched as his eyes shot open, nothing but fear in them. The Inquisitor stepped closer, hand raised in warning gesture.

“Leliana, let Felix go. He has nothing -”

“To do with this?” the spymaster finished Amyra’s sentence and laughed hoarsely, tip of her blade drawing blood. “He is the son of his father. He is as much of a monster as the creatures which roam outside these walls.”

“I did all of this for him! For my son! I was promised a cure - “ Alexius’ voice trailed off. I knew what was coming and looked away, Felix used to be a very nice guy and his fate _was_ worse then death.

“Well, let me help you then.”

A sick sound of metal slashing the throat open. A scream full of desperation and anger. And then the dull thud of bodies falling on the floor. I opened my eyes to see Leliana pulling a small dagger out of dead magister’s chest and wiping the blade clean before hiding it in her sleeve. Part of me expected her to say some badass one - liner, the other part was moderately surprised it was not the collective effort that killed Alexius. Both parts squealed in horror when a thunderous roar shook the windows of the castle.

”Cor - The Elder One!” I called out, pointing outside. There was nothing, of course. I mean there _was_ something out there - a huge dragon and an army of demons. Just not behind _that_ particular window. My screech reached the target and Lavellan turned to Dorian, who held Alexius’ amulet in his hand.

“How long will it take?”

”About fifteen minutes, if we are lucky.”

“If? No ‘ifs’!” I interjected hastily. “You are a capable mage, Dorian. You did this before. Not in this circumstances but hey, nothing gives you a stroke of genius like an impending doom.”

Right. I might have said a bit too much. Some lowly scout should not know these things. But I will just file this under my ‘elfroot - induced revelations’ and hope for the best. If Deviled Egg can get away with his ‘Oh, I saw it in the Fade. Again.’ I should be able to as well.

“I will buy you some time,” Cassandra had finally spoken and raised her free hand, anticipating my next question. “And I will make sure Commander stays docile,”she closed her eyes and I noticed her grip around Cullen’s neck tightening. “Forgive me, my friend.”

Cullen’s eyes flew open, as the blue veins under the Seeker’s fingers started pulsating faster, manifesting themselves on his face as well. He screamed, muscles contracting and bulging in pain and, as the scream turned into a muffled moan, Cullen collapsed on the floor like a rag doll, eyes rolling backwards.

So, it seems I have just witnessed someone’s lyrium being set on fire. Ok, good to know. Wow, I really hope poor Commander does not remember any of this. 

I knelt besides him, hastily taking one of my gloves off and searched for the pulse. Took me a while but I’ve found it - slow and shallow but present.

“Take care of him.” Cassandra nodded at me and unsheathed her sword, readying herself.

“I - What?” I mumbled, completely confused. That sounded kind of… Meaningful? Take care now or later?

“We will fight for as long as the Maker lets us,” Leliana picked up her bow and joined the Seeker. “Hurry!”

As the door closed behind them, I turned my attention back to Cullen and very slowly dragged him closer to where Inquisitor and Dorian were doing their magic. Lavellan’s Anchor was interacting with Alexius’ amulet, feeding it, while Dorian kept whispering under his breath and occasionally cursing when a spell brought no desired effect.

Yet another roar and the walls trembled when something heavy landed on top of the tower. Multiple cracks ran from underneath the roof as the dragon started clawing its way to us. A flash of green light and the crackling of magic had announced the arrival of the portal and I felt someone grabbing me by the shoulder.

“Commander and Herald first!” I yelled, not sure if anyone heard me in this cacophony of noises. Dorian helped Amyra to lift Cullen up and the three of them literally tumbled in the gaping maw of the rift. Me, being hopeless lorewhore, turned around one last time just to see part of the ceiling collapse on itself and atrociously ugly mug full of teeth peeking in. For those three seconds that I screamed and fell backwards into the portal, I did realize that it was not so strange people later will say it was the Archdemon itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Finale, it is here!! It is very different to stay cheery in the dark future and the events to come. Our homegirl tries tho. And why, do you ask, Cassandra did not knock out Cullen immediately? Not that convenient to drag a heavy guy in armour around, I imagine. And Unconscious bodies are also extra heavy.


	11. And So Haven Went BOOM

In the annals of the thedosian history the attack on Haven would be described most likely like that:

_“And the heavens parted, and the mighty creature descended upon the safe haven, and it brought the Blight on its wings, the horror of which were still fresh within our hearts. And the Herald of Andraste stood tall to protect the innocents with her very life.”_

Now, if you were to ask _me_ , it would sound something along the lines of “Fuckfuckfuckfuckidy-fuck-on-a-stick!!” repeated through equal intervals of non - coherent screeching. 

That was about the only thought coursing through my head as I watched Corypheus’ dragon landing somewhere ahead of us, engaging the Inquisitor. By that time Cullen and Leliana had already herded the survivors into the Chantry, where Chancellor Roderick had finally opened the trapdoor to the secret passage.

I will be honest, I sneaked into the Chantry early on because I knew I would get in the way. Knowing myself, I would step into a bear trap or flail off the edge of the cliff. Feeling rather guilty I offered my services to help with the wounded. Three patients later I was elbows deep in blood but, apparently, gore frazzled me much less then mythological Blighted creatures in the skies. Too busy trying to stop yet another bleeding by applying a tourniquet over scout’s arm, I barely heard Cullen’s command to retreat. A mass of bodies poured into the narrow passageway - people were fleeing for their lives, pushing each other and acting like animals. I was sitting and biding my time, highly unwilling to be trampled by the masses, when Leliana’s voice near my ear made me jump up. Rather ungracefully and with a surprised gasp on top of that.

“Scout, do you need a special invitation?”

The voice she said it with reminded me so much of the future Spymaster that I darted off into the dark tunnel like a beautiful gazelle. Well… Most likely it was a charming ‘cow on ice’ kind of grace, I should really stop trying to flatter myself.

I would have never though myself claustrophobic but it seemed that today was full of surprises. As soon as the realisation that I am deep underground dawned upon my slow brain, the walls started to close in to the point I actually imagined the dirt and stones scraping against my arms. With a muffled moan of panic I stopped to count till ten, desperately trying to calm down when a hand rested on my shoulder, making me screech like a freaking bald eagle.

“Maker, Valerie, are you alright?”

_Do I look alright?!_

“Sorry, this passage is so small, I got a bit startled…”

“I - uh - can stand here straight up.”

As one of the tallest human members of Inquisition, Cullen was making a good point. But I did not ask for his good points at all. I did not even ask him to talk to me right now. Maybe ever. My insides clenched at the memory of his fury directed at me in that small courtyard and the weight of heavy boot on my back. 

“You know what, Commander, why don’t you just -” I took a deep breath and turned around, ready to hurl something nasty in his direction when I saw his face. And then promptly remembered something from the ‘World of Thedas’ book. Cullen was scared of narrow spaces. Right now his forehead was drenched in sweat and he looked paler then the snow. He still gave me a shy but encouraging smile as our eyes met. I closed my mouth, feeling like an asshole and blurted ‘Never mind’, turning away and continuing onward.

As the last person had emerged from the passageway, Cullen barred the door and nodded to Leliana, who lit an arrow on fire and shot it high up in the sky. Not a moment later a thundering sound in the distance rolled over the mountains, announcing the Herald setting off the trebuchet, burying Corypheus’ army and all of Haven under the avalanche.

***

Let’s just say the mood in the small camp was less than festive. Hours flew by and the Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen. Even though everyone had heard, if not felt, the avalanche, the Commander still posted people in front of the tunnel, hoping Lavellan managed to make it to the Chantry in time. People were setting a camp but were doing so slowly and without a spark of motivation. I wanted to tell them their Herald will come back but what if she doesn’t? It could happen. By all accounts it shouldn’t but I think the accounts flew out of the window the moment my ass landed on Cullen at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

After circling around like a caged animal became old and boring, I left the camp behind to go towards the rocks that looked like the place the Inquisitor will be spotted from. Eventually. As I stood there, shivering from the icy wind and thinking of poor Lavellan out there, I heard footsteps behind me. At first I thought it might have been Solas - shifty bastard had been throwing curious stares in my direction ever since we came out on this side of Frostbacks. And, while never making attempt to talk to me back at Haven, I could bet my right hand he was watching me and taking notes. As to Solas at this very moment, he did not look worried at all but did try to frown and look pensive when required - it kept people from questioning why is he so unmoved by the supposed tragedy. 

But no, the steps were heavier - elves, especially _that_ one - did not walk like this. Humans, however, did. And the only human that would be interested in being here right now - 

_Oh crap._

“Valerie.”

_Cullen._

“Ah, you are just in time, Commander,” I chirped and started to desperately search for an escape route. “Well, ah, bye!”

I tried squeezing between Cullen and the icy wall but he shot an arm sideways, preventing me from leaving. The delicious trope of a hot hero keeping the heroine from fleeing like this is _only_ attractive when you are not the heroine in question. The Commander towered above me, fur mantle looking all the furrier in this weather, several lonely snowflakes clinging desperately to it.

“We need to talk,” he said it so quietly, I almost could not hear him against the howling wind above. “Please stay.”

When I said nothing, he blinked and pinched his nose-bridge for a moment, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. I absentmindedly watched how his breath turned into a small puff of smoke and disappeared into the night sky.

“My recollection of what had happened in Redcliffe is very poor. I try to remember but there are only bits and pieces... Forgive me if I - If I did something. I don’t -” Cullen started stumbling over his own words, clearly in distress. “Did I hurt you?” he finally said and I heard his voice crack.

Did he hurt me? No, not really. Did he scared me shitless? Very much so. If this was a fanfic, the scene in the courtyard would be, kind of, hot in that weird and slightly disturbing way. I had a soft spot for pissed off Cullen, no secret there. But this was not a fanfic, it could have ended very badly for us both and so, despite trying to stay as cool as a cucumber, I wrapped my arms around myself and starting trembling slightly.

“You were scary, Cullen.” I squeezed out in a much more confident voice than expected. “The lyrium and your past got the better of you and I ended up on the receiving end.”

The few stray snowflakes turned into a steady snowfall and the wind blew away my hood, hitting me in the face with thousand icy needles. Cullen stayed silent and so I continued, loosing all common sense in the process. 

“Dammit, I am not your Warden, Cullen. And I am not the Knight - Commander. I would _never_ abuse your trust and I would _never_ leave you behind! I promised you I would come back! But you - You don’t trust people. You quit the order and yet you are _still_ a templar in every fibre of your being. Always on guard, always distrustful.” I raised my finger in the air and planted it on Cullen’s breastplate, ignoring the dull pain of flesh hitting metal. “And all it took to bring out the nasty was some stupid Red Lyrium Song. You are better than that and if you don’t believe it, I sure do!”

I stopped and took a deep breath, nostrils flaring and thinking that I _might_ have been a bit harsh. The little voice in my head buzzed up, saying I was very close to blabbering out some stuff _Scout_ Valerie had no way of knowing. I huffed and dropped hands on my hips.

“You threw me on the ground and put your foot on my back.” I have finally said and pursed my lips together. “It was quite the experience. But I’m fine now. Bygones, Cullen.”

So there we stood, staring at each other. Don’t know what the Commander was thinking but I was half - convinced he was going to kiss me or something. Because this is how this stuff goes in the books, right? People argue, there are feelings involved and then they start making out passionately? Part of me prepared my faithful kneecap for the honour of hitting Cullen in the dangleberries would he attempt anything like that, while the other part was, kind of, mildly curious. I have kissed my share of men - some were ‘meh’, others were actually fun. If anything, I did like Cullen, he was very good - looking and back in the day, behind my computer screen, my hibernating libido would occasionally wonder how did those lips really -

Suddenly my face drowned in the dark fur that smelled vaguely of dog and I felt arms closing around me. The kneecap had been immobilised before it had its time to shine.

“Thank you.” Cullen’s voice came from above and I felt a warm breath tickling my forehead.

“For what?” I muffled, feeling extremely confused but also fuzzy and warm. The smell of honey and leather were making me feel lightheaded and I realised that I, sort of, snuggled up to this big templar guy in a rather… cosy manner.

“For your honesty. And for… being there for me,” he whispered and hid his face in my hair. "Valerie."

Jesus and three piglets, I have never heard him say my name like _that_. With so much emotion. My brain started galloping around in my head, trying to figure out what it all meant and short-circuiting in the process.This fluffy but weird moment lasted for eternity. In my head, anyway. And then I, once again, heard the snow creaking underneath someone’s boots. Cullen must have heard it too because we both jumped away from each other, looking rather bashful. Cassandra eyed us suspiciously and then stopped her gaze on Cullen.

“Commander, I’ve been searching all over for you! What -”

She suddenly stopped, looking behind our backs, eyes narrow in attempt to see through the curtain of snow. A moment later she darted off, followed closely by me and the Commander.

“Maker -” an utter disbelief in Cullen’s voice as he scooped out something from the snow. “Herald is here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to update, i did not know where to proceed exactly. On one hand I do not want to describe anything scene by scene but on the other... And then Valerie came to me and said: "Me and Cullen have unresolved shit. Chop - chop."
> 
> And then they resolved it. By being two fluffy dorks. I hate fluff but this fluff seems right? Does it make sense? Does anything make sense?!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy (hopefully) As always, kudos and comments give me life <3 Toodloo, you beautiful peoplez!


	12. When Canons Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me on my tumblr for prompts or just to say hello ^_^
> 
> http://thegoldensheepofhonnleath.tumblr.com/

People say that if you wish for something hard enough, the universe will provide. Now, I wasn’t wishing for everything to get royally screwed but it seems the universe that houses Thedas has been much more receptive to my fatalistic brainwaves than the one back home.

I watched Cullen and Cassandra kneel before a small figure in the snow and the Commander gently picking Lavellan up. I saw the Seeker pointing towards the camp and running off. I say _‘running’_ but in reality it looked more like an intense trudging, the snow had gotten knee deep since I came out here.

So far so good, I thought to myself as I caught up with Cullen.

Don’t know what I was expecting but definitely not an expression of utmost concern, if not fear. I could not see much of the Inquisitor, her small shape huddled up in Cullen’s arms but she was not moving and that fact alone made my heart drop. Like, seriously. Did you ever feel heartbeat in your knees? Me neither, until now. A weird and rather unpleasant feeling, that one.

As we reached the camp, the Commander quickly disappeared in the closest tent which, coincidentally, was his own. I bee - lined after him, unsure what to do with myself.

“Is she going to be alright?” I said, trying to sound calm but instead my sentence ended in a shrill pitch.

“Maker, I hope so.” Cullen answered as he carefully put Lavellan onto the furs. 

And oh merciful Maker, she did _not_ look good. My limited knowledge was just about enough to guess the elf got frostbitten, for starters. Maybe some internal injuries, on top of that - Corypheus had tossed her around quite some. I mumbled something, desperately trying to remember the basic rules of helping a victim of overexposure as I watched the Commander hastily taking his gloves off and applying light pats on Lavellan’s skin. Somewhere in the back of my mind a warning sound kept beeping weakly but I could not figure out what it wanted me to do.

“Valerie,” Cullen turned to me, and nodded curtly in the direction of the exit. “Wait outside for the Seeker and her mage,” when I failed to move he sneered, eyes flashing. “ _Now_ !”

*******

She dashed outside and momentarily Cullen regretted barking at Valerie the way he did. But the girl tended to freeze like a nug in the daylight and every second counted. Cassandra went to find that apostate, Solas and would be heading back any moment. He could not leave Lavellan and the Seeker did not know where they went.

“Herald, you can’t do this to us.” he whispered continuing landing soft pats upon her cold skin. He could see her breathe - shallow and irregularly slow. Cullen cussed, something he rarely did and continued trying to warm the woman up. His knowledge of the medicine was very limited - only the absolute basics a soldier needed to help his fellows survive on the battlefield until the proper help arrives.

And then suddenly, Lavellan’s eyelashes fluttered slightly and her eyes opened - gray and unseeing they stared into the ceiling. Cullen jumped up, then dropped back onto his knees and grabbed Amyra’s hand, eyes darting towards the exit, hoping to see the bald hedge mage enter. He felt her fingers curl around his palm, surprisingly strong for a small woman and her lips parted, letting nothing but a soft exhale through, followed by the bright red trickle of blood.

Unseen magic crackled in the air, making Cullen panic as he desperately tried freeing himself from Herald’s grip. Next came the pain.

*******

I spotted Cassandra and the Egg the same moment I heard a muffled moan coming from the tent. My hand was still up, trying to attract their attention when the moan turned to a suppressed scream. The Seeker saw me and had changed her direction abruptly and I dove back into the warmth, soon followed by the others.

We found the Commander on his knees, left hand pressed tightly to his chest and blood trickling down from the puncture wound on his lip. Solas dashed past me, pretty much pushing me aside and a various mix of emotions flickering over his face. Innocent bystanders might think he was really worried about the Inquisitor but not me, I knew that all he bothered about was the Anchor. His hands lit up, akin to the spirit healing of Anders, and he quickly scanned the very lifeless - looking body of Lavellan. A fleeting frustration flashed in his eyes as Solas turned to us.

“She’s gone,” he announced rather flatly and turned back to the body, searching for her left palm. What he saw made him recoil in surprise, “The Anchor’s… disappeared?”

“Not really.” Cullen’s soft voice suddenly seemed too loud in the silence that had followed. He stood up slowly, using the bunk bed as support and carefully uncurled his left fist. I gasped. So did Cassandra. Solas… Yet another shadow, of anger this time round, had crossed and vanished from his face before anyone else took notice.

Cullen’s palm bore the Mark. It looked much better than the one Inquisitor ended up with - no scar tissue or anything that would cause it to loose mobility. The center of his hand emitted the poisonous green glow and from there the Anchor ran upwards, invading his veins and arteries and coloring them the same ghostly color.

“It is regrettable we have lost the Herald,” Solas had finally spoken with a voice that had no regret in it whatsoever. “But we have the Anchor still and with it a fighting chance against Corypheus.”

“But the Herald…” Cassandra sounded lost. “She was more then just her mark, she became a symbol for the people. Her loss will -”

“Stay unnoticed,” Solas interrupted the Seeker and I saw him smile softly as he looked at me. The knot in my stomach grew as large as the sun - even sharks looked friendlier to me than _this_ guy. “We have Scout Valerie to fill in nicely.”

”Only blind won't notice I am not an elf.” I snarled back, both scared and distraught by the implications.

“A second hand concern,” the elf answered condescendingly. “For now your shape and face will be enough.”

I wanted to speak up against all of this. I hated how easily he had decided what to do with me, no approval of party involved was needed. Clearly Solas was in his element right now. He used to weasel in front of the Inquisitor and seem likable but he did not extend the same courtesy to the people that were outside his caring zone. It warmed my little heart to think a templar was the host for his precious Anchor now.

“And when we get to Skyhold? Then what?”

_Yeah, eat this. I am on top of my game, you Deviled Egg._

“Ah, I forgot who I am dealing with,” Solas answered and chuckled. “I would think the Spymaster would know a way.”

“Skyhold?” Cassandra asked, puzzled by our exchange.

I opened my mouth but then hung my head shyly, letting the elf have this one.

“It is a forgotten fortress further in the Frostbacks. It has wards to protect it from the unwanted gazes but those who are in need can find it,” he took a pause and I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing over the next part. “My spirit friends had showed me the way.”

My snort had been overshadowed by Cullen, who still held his hand slightly away from himself, as if expecting it to explode.

“What about -, About _this_ ?” he shook his hand slightly and flexed the fingers.

“As much as it pains me to see such ancient magic to be wielded by a _templar,_ we have little choice on the matter,” the elf sighed and then hummed. “Have you ever wondered how it is to be a mage, Commander?”

Cullen recoiled, oozing fear and discomfort.

“Well, now you will know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost two months since I've updated. I ask for your forgiveness, humble reader. This chapter was one of those important - breaking - point ones and I was not being able to get over the threshold. Well, today I did. And I am so happy I managed, that I am posting it now, and not during my evening time, which is not due for another seven hours. xD
> 
> Well, the last semblance of canon died in a fire. Cullen has the Mark! Valerie might just become what she feared the most! And Solas is an ass.
> 
> Let me know what you think. :3 I love hearing from people.


	13. Luck Favours the Bold (And Stupid)

So, how did it come to this, I asked myself, staring at the small vial in front of me. Why do I care so much about all these people that I am willing to perform a shady equivalent of plastic surgery to help them win the fight?

A small crystal vial in front of me had no answers. I sulked some more and put a tip of my finger on top of the cork. The liquid inside should have been red - after all, the main ingredient was late Inquisitor's blood. Dorian and Solas spent the long and perilous trek to Skyhold designing a potion formula. They went through every scrap of information available, pulled both from the memory and the sad amount of books that escaped the collapse of Haven. Leliana penned down everything they needed and the ravens were sent the moment battered Inquisition forces trickled through the main gates of the forgotten fortress.

As to me, I have spent most of the journey pretending to be sick and feeble and hiding in the pile of furs. Nobody questioned why out of all the people it had been Commander who was looking after the elf, people were too busy trying to survive. The truth, however, was a bit more complicated - it had been the 'Herald' who was tending to the Commander. Cullen lost sleep, appetite and was slowly wasting away under the strain the Anchor had put on him. Lyrium sickness had, no doubt, reared its ugly head as well but he did not talk about that. He did not talk much about anything but I could see it in his eyes that he was grateful I was nearby.

It was all getting very dramatic and then the mages rolled in and saved the day, sort of. Solas started to educate Cullen on how to handle the Anchor's energies, while Dorian told the Commander colourful stories about good - looking demons trying and failing to seduce him in the Fade. Some of the stories were - uh - rather steamy and I wish the Tevinter kept those to himself but every single one had a couple of tips how to recognize a nosy demon and avoid being fooled. With two of them and my babysitting skills Cullen started to perk up. Somewhat, anyway.

Back to me, I guess. After arriving in Skyhold I was locked inside the tower, akin to Rapunzel and spent the next week in a state of perpetual anxiety. I _knew_ what they were planning, I agreed to be part of the charade because it was necessary. And because both Solas and Dorian promised me it would be reversible. I trusted Dorian but the Egg? _Oh so shifty._ It was pretty much the 'he knew that I knew that he knew something' kind of situation. Remember that dance between Inquisitor and Florianne? Every interaction with Solas felt like that. A Dance of Trying to Outsmart Each Other.

My fingers curled around the vial and I pulled out the cork, which made a quiet popping sound.

"You are ready, I take it," Solas stirred in the corner of the room and I turned around to face him. I must have looked extremely miserable because he had given me a reassuring smile. "It might be scary but it will not change who you are on the inside. Just regard it as a, say, drastic haircut. And just like a haircut it will not be permanent."

"You are comparing shaving someone's head with growing elf ears and reshaping bones." I barked nervously, sweating through my shirt.

"Trust me, you will not feel a thing."

"Well, _fine_ !" I chugged down the potion like it was water and threw the vial on the ground. "Break a leg, Valerie!"

The self - cheer caught in my throat as I felt the warm liquid sliding down my esophagus and nestling in my stomach. From there I all but saw the imaginary warm threads rapidly crawling into every cell in my body and getting hotter. Getting much _fucking_ hotter!

"You said I wouldn't -," I whined and tumbled on the bed, clutching my sides and feeling every fiber of my being glowing with heat.

"Starting now." the elf said quietly as his soft fingers toughed my forehead. Few brisk words in elvhen is all I remembered before being embraced by pleasant nothingness.

*******

"- two days, mage! I knew this was dangerous and yet allowed you to -" the rest was drowned in a groan and a green flash of light so bright I saw it through the closed eyelids.

"Commander, please steady yourself or must I do it for you?"

"Do not touch me. I am able to calm down on my own." the voice answered quietly. There was no anger there, just exhaustion.

I have finally managed to open my eyes and sat up straight, staring at the two people at the foot of my bed. Solas probably had felt the disturbance in the Force or something, because his head snapped sideways and he glanced at me, approval painted all over that smug mug of his.

I felt weird. Kind of... Like not in my own skin, if that makes any sense. First I realized that I was swimming in my current clothes. The length was fine, it was the width that became too, uh, wide. I leaped out of bed, and tumbled over to a mirror holding my pants and shirt in place with both hands. It was a relief to be greeted by my own face, even if it had barely visible vallaslin decorating forehead and both cheeks. Then there were the ears. Long and pointy and, as I found out touching one of them carefully, extremely sensitive. And not in a way like kinky smut may suggest. Did you ever notice how pissed off cats get when you touch their ears? _That_ kind of sensitive.

All in all, it could have been worse. The Inquisitor could have been a dude. Or a Qunari. Or a Qunari dude. I sighed, brushing the inconveniently long hair and thinking absentmindedly that the mane had to go. Lavellan's locks were lush and long and the elf used to wear many complicated braids. It looked amazing but once you go pixie, you never go back. And I was _all_ about pixie - cuts.

"You look good, Inquisitor." Cullen's voice drifted in and out of my head but, as preoccupied with own vanity as I was, last word hooked itself onto my consciousness.

"Wait, what did you just call me?"

"It had been decided that Herald of Andraste is to become the Inquisitor." Cullen answered slowly and I saw his jowls tightening, as if he was prepared for me to charge him. Right now being Qunari rather than a flimsy elf sounded very appealing.

"You are making _me_ your leader? Why?! I have no Anchor, no field skills!"

"If it was my decision to make -" Cullen answered defensively but I interrupted him.

"Oh so _now_ you roll over, Commander. That's the spirit! Throw me under the biggest fattest bus!"

"What's 'a bus'?" he mumbled, clearly taken aback by a tiny ball of fury in front of him.

Can't blame him, till this very moment I have been a relatively calm person. Not quite sure what I was hoping for. Perhaps that Cullen inheriting the Anchor would make him the Inquisitor and Herald would step aside, giving way to a new rising star of Thedas. I rubbed my temples and stared at Solas, who had been quiet this whole time. I bet if there was popcorn he would be eating it right now while enjoying the show, Michael Jackson style

"What now?" I exhaled and dropped back on the bed.

"I can only speak for myself, _Inquisitor_ and I believe it is in everyone's best interest for you to learn about late Herald's culture and customs. In order to perform, one needs to learn the ropes first."

_Oh you would know all about that, wouldn't you?_

"The small Council will have your back, Valerie. Day and night," Cullen gave me a tense smile and the moment later I understood the reason behind it. "Adjustments will have to be made regarding _my_ responsibilities within the organisation but it will all be well."

_Break a leg, Inquisition!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god! I am alive! it has been a while. The life just got really crazy and I found it very difficult to balance work and free time. it is still the issue but at least I updated?
> 
> Thanks for sticking around this long. This chapter might be a bit... meh. If there is a particular stuff you want to see Valerie do (main events aside) she can see if it is possible.
> 
> I love you all! Now I need to go to bed because damn work >.<


	14. Well, That Escalated Quickly

“ - which makes the Orleasian court one of the most influential among the - Inquisitor, _please_!”

Josephine’s plea made me raise my head and stare dully at the Ambassador’s troubled face. When the woman noticed me looking, she sighed and put the notes aside.“What is the last thing you remember?”

A bead of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades and I quickly scanned my writing, partly hidden behind various doodles. Knowing that I am doomed I, nevertheless, flashed a bright smile and tucked my palms between my knees, hoping to stop the nervous sweating.

“Uh, Tevinter is governed by the Archon?”

“We’ve covered that half an hour ago, Inquisitor.”

_Welp, I tried._

“Josie, we have been at this political nonsense for four hours. We’ve covered Ferelden and Tevinter. If I hear one more title I will scream,” I organized the scattered notes and stood up defiantly, ready to dart for the door if the Ambassador tried to stop me. “ Yes, I know it is important but so is my sanity. Continue tomorrow? It is not like you have nothing to do.”

I knew for a fact she had tons of things to attend to and while I appreciated her effort to make me a valid member of thedosian society, I really needed a break. Especially since the day before I sat through five hours of Solas’ droning about the Elvhen pantheon. At the end my ‘sad lack of assertiveness’ pissed him off enough to stop the lesson and show me the way out. But not before promising to continue when the previous information settles in. Boy, lucky me.

As a walked the crumbled hallways, observing the earliest stages of repair I let my mind wander. We have finally started settling Skyhold but resources were sparse and the Inquisition was forced to play dead for a while longer. Leliana’s scouts were prowling Ferelden in search for new recruits and establishing trading routes, all that while keeping eyes peeled for Corypheus and his goons. Information about Red Templars and Venatori trickled in via both birds and new arrivals. So, while we were quietly establishing our foothold, all bigger operations had been suspended and left plenty of time for the small council and one irritating elf to turn their attention to a freshly baked Inquisitor.

As you might have guessed, Josephine decided it was her sacred duty to teach me politics. In her defense, she would do exactly the same to Lavellan but that was a very small consolation. Because stupid Herald was _made_ for these things, literally. And I, obviously, wasn’t.

Solas took _a great burden_ upon himself to teach me the Way of the Elf. Despite his bucket of prejudices, he made sure I would be proficient in Dalish culture as well, something I _have_ to give the Egg credit for. Really did not think he had it in him.

Leliana pretty much shadowed Josephine and occasionally added some juicy information about the interactions between the nobles and angles one could play to win that extra favor. Needles to say those angles were shady as fuck.

As to Cullen, I did not see him much. He was not present in the War Room on those pitiful occasion when we had something to discuss. Once in a while I would see him training the recruits but before I could even wave hello, I would be whisked away by someone. If I was lucky, it was yet another lesson. And if I wasn’t… last time I spend good three hours picking tapestry for the great hall. Needless to say I collapsed in my bed afterwards and slept till the next morning.

*******

When you spend couple of weeks in a tent tending to someone, you grow attached. I caught myself missing Cullen’s presence. We did not talk much back then, because he was too exhausted to be interested in what I had to say but I told him stories to keep man’s mind distracted. Most of them were shameless re-telling of ‘Lord of The Rings’ trilogy and setting - modified ‘Star Wars’. Needless to say that Dorian, who had been present sometimes, intervened, claiming that Aragorn and Faramir are made for each other and nothing would convince him otherwise. Not that I tried, shippers gonna ship.

Grinning in amusement I found myself in front of the door to Cullen’s quarters. He was probably cooped up in his office, nose deep into paperwork, trying to ease off the load Cassandra would partly inherit. While officially still the Commander of the Inquisition, he had to accompany my useless ass into the field to help us close the rifts. To say I felt shitty about it was a gross understatement. This came down to Cullen doing all the dirty work and me prancing in and ‘representing’ the Inquisition. In his absence, Cassandra would be second in command, which meant diligently sifting through acquisitions and requisitions and sending birds to inform of a particularly intricate situations that required Commander’s attention.

The door creaked open and I dove into rather badly lit room. I have noticed Cullen immediately and, let me tell you, did not like what I saw.

“Commander.”

I swear I did not yell or anything but he jolted upwards, hitting the table with his knee. A small glass bottle rolled across the floor and stopped at my toes. I bent to pick it up, knowing well ahead what I am going to see.

_Someone started early._

“I did not take it.” he stated hastily, looking like a deer in the headlights.

“I did not even ask anything yet, Cullen,” I rolled the small vial in my palm, absentmindedly noticing how cool it felt. The bottle was locked inside an iron cast, its decoration reminding me of Kirkwall architecture - ugly and depressing. “Is this from your lyrium set?”

“How do you -”

“You know I am aware of many things.”

Cullen sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Even in the dim light of the room it shimmered like old gold. While he tried to compose himself, I took a moment to look him over. There was not much improvement since we last saw each other. Oh sure, he tried to keep appearances when in public but right now, without his surcoat and armor I could see the loss of muscle and the waxy paleness of the skin.

“How long since the symptoms got bad enough?”

“Cassandra promised she would not tell!” he spat angrily, clearly low on patience. For a moment my hear sank for I heard the echo of _that_ anger and my fingers curled around the lyrium a bit tighter.

“Cassandra told me nothing. I know it on my own.” I positioned myself behind the arm chair, something to push in his way when I run like hell. “When an ex-templar yells out ‘I did not take it!’, it does not require high deduction skills.”

“Maker be my witness, I did _not_ take it.” he repeated again, following my every movement.

“But you wanted, right?”

“To the Void and back, Valerie!” Cullen exclaimed and slammed his hands on the table. “What do you - Why?! Yes, I wanted. _Badly._ And you know why? Because my life is nothing but a waking nightmare!” he started pacing around the small room, fists clenched so tight the leather gloves creaked pitifully. “I envisioned this new path for myself. Hope for a slightly better future… And for what?! So I end like _this_?!” his left hand shot an angry spark and Cullen growled, grabbing his wrist.

I wanted to say something. What do you even say to someone whose whole life had steadily been going to the crapper for the past ten years only to plummet down in an epic fashion the moment you have entered the scene. This all had been my fault. Indirectly, my presence had changed everything. Trying to stay away and let the events run their course did diddly squat. If anything, it made life worse for so many people.

_Oh god._

_Fuck._

_I can feel it coming._

_Valerie, dammit, don’t!_

“I’M SO SORRY!” I howled and felt the first hot tears rolling down my cheeks. The flow had become steadier and I just dropped on the floor right where I was standing, curling up in a soggy trembling ball of wail. All the stress and guilt I have been so successfully accumulating and bottling up up till now just started oozing from every damn orifice of my stupid wrong body. I wanted to say I did not do it on purpose, that I tried to keep stuff going, that I did not know what had happened. And above all that I was scared they _all_ will hate me. That Cullen will hate me. Whatever I was saying turned into nonsensical blubbering and frankly, if I was coherent enough, I would be disgusted with myself.

Through all that gross sobbing it took me a moment to realize that someone was nearby, their arms embracing me. Instinctively, I buried my face into the nook between the neck and the shoulder, smelling faint traces of honey and leather and a stray curl brushing against my cheek.

“Cullen, I don’t deserve -”

“It is not for you to decide.” he whispered softly, arms tightening around me.

I exhaled, feeling the trembling subsiding slowly. It had been years since anyone had hugged me so. Few people understood how much this kind of contact meant to me and what it represented. But Cullen knew, he hugged just like _that_ \- strong and yet extremely gentle and considerate. I felt safe. At home even. And I did not want to let him go. Not just yet.

_Not ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter name says it all. I had completely other plans. But then this just wrote itself and I could not say know, you know how me and angst go together. It ended up in nice hugs. I love hugs and so does Valerie.
> 
> Cheers, my favorite readers. Loved to hear from you last time, keep at it <3


	15. It's A Cookie!

“You ignored my plea once in the favor of the mages. Do not do so again!” The Commander was not in a diplomatic mood today as he glared at me and the advisers across the war table, small tower figurine in his hand. “There might be templars left at the Therinfal Redoubt. Does their fate not bother you _at all_ ?

It sure did. Especially since I knew that by now the fortress turned into a huge-ass Red Templar lair. Hoping for untainted survivors was akin to hoping for Varric romance.

“You can’t save everyone, Commander,” I said carefully. Choosing right words had become a difficult necessity in this diplomacy - plagued universe. If I had to pretend being Inquisitor I had to do it actively and consistently, even in front of people who knew my dirty little secret. “We’ve lost time that templars might not have had to begin with.”

Look at me talking all eloquently and poetically. In my head I just had to pretend to be Lavellan and sound just as smart and pretentious. That said, personality crisis was looming on the horizon and, while I was actively trying to ignore it, I can’t deny that more and more nights were spent sobbing into the pillow because being someone else was as exhausting as you can imagine.

“Seekers then. Do you not care for your brothers and sisters, Cassandra?”

Well, he hit a spot there. The woman’s eyes darted sideways and she sighed softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it, yes. But at the time we could not commit the resources necessary to -”

“If it gives you a peace of mind, we can send a small search team,” Leliana spoke quietly but then shook her head as she looked at Cullen. “However, the rumors I’ve been hearing are not of a pleasant sort, Commander.”

“No templars or mages should go there,” I hastily interjected and was taken aback by the amount of intense glares that were directed at my modest person. “Just, ah, trust me on this. There might be red lyrium involved. You need people that will be either not or mildly affected by it. Like Cassandra, Leliana’s scouts and common foot soldiers.”

“Do you really want to throw these people against _templars_?”

“ _Red_ Templars, even,” I met his gaze with all the stern I could muster. Which was not much. Angry Cullen was always slightly scary. Hot but scary nevertheless. “Do _you_ want to throw lyrium - dependent troops in a middle of possible hazardous situation?”

“Inquisitor has a point, Commander,” Cassandra stepped forward and picked up one of the figurines, putting it on the map. “I shall go myself and take only those who volunteer. Anything to add, Valerie?”

I was taken aback by the fact someone actually asked for my advice. Like sure, I have been more actively involved nowadays but it mostly came down to arguing with people about who to send where and why do I always shit on other people’s parade. Well, ok, Cullen did not say that last thing like _that_ but he sure did heavily imply it.

“Look into taking dwarves with you, maybe? If they want to go.”

***

Well, there went another two hours of being productive. As I strategically plopped myself on the ground in the farthest corner of the cortyard, hidden from the rest of the people, I sighed and closed my eyes, bathing in the soft warmth of the winter sun. The game made this whole fate - deciding thing look like a piece of cake. I remember sweating in front of the screen trying to figure out the best outcome for everyone involved, while Lavellan’s make up stayed as perfect as ever, her heroic posture unmoved by the hardships of war and zero fucks given. All I had was stress. _A lot of it._ It tensed my muscles and made my joints ache and did I mention crying and loss of sleep? No wonder that when a certain opportunity presented itself I embraced it wholeheartedly.

“Found ya, Quizzy!”

A silk satchel dropped on my knees and I opened my eyes to stare at the small elf with unevenly cut blond hair. Did I ever imagine being happy to see Sera? Not in a million years. To be honest, I always found her mildly annoying. And I could never follow her train of thought. But guess what we bonded over? Some good grade A elfroot. You could say that Sera was my dealer. That is, if elfroot was forbidden but it was not. In fact, it was a very popular method of relaxation among the elves of all backgrounds. I have never seen Solas smoking it but I bet he did, discreetly and very smugly. Just like everything else, shitting included. Yes, I went there. _Bam!_

Anyway, Sera was a true talent, so she either knew all the good gathering spots or had a secret way of preparing the herb but her ‘special’ chocolate cookies were _the best_. I opened the bag, sewed lovingly from small patches of colorful materials and took out a culinary perfection that still held the traces of oven’s warmth. 

“Is your Cully - Wully riding your bum again?”

“My what?” I snapped my head sideways so fast I felt the pieces of cookie slide down the wrong pipe. Sera was quick to react, bless her soul, but she slammed me so hard I saw stars and possibly my dead turtle from twelve years ago. It told me that the vacuum-cleaner accident was not my fault and then the light had vanished, along with the crumbs in my trachea.

“Ha, called it! Varric owns me a pint.” she grinned widely and then took another bite.

“I think you know more than -”

“Oh please! You, like, all huggity -hug with him when no-one’s looking. I get it, he’s a pretty candy. Myself I don’t like dangly bits but, you know…”

“I hugged him twice!” I exclaimed, appalled by the baseless accusations and too eager to defend my non - existing honor to see the trap I was face - rolling into. “And it has nothing to do with any _‘dangly bits’_ !”

“So you _did_ hug!” Sera punched the air in excitement as I but my tongue but then frowned while chewing slowly. “No bits lovin’ tho? How come?”

“Like… There is more to a person than genitals,” I said slowly feeling the cookie finally giving the much needed relaxation. I felt my thoughts becoming slow and stringy, like fine melted cheese. I could use some good cheese right now. Parmesan has always been my jam in such situations. “You know, personalities. The way they talk, go about daily life… The little things. _Very important._ Bits, dangly or otherwise, only get you so far. Also, they look pretty damn weird, don’t you think?”

“Well, d’uh,” Sera stuffed the last piece of the cookie in her mouth without taking a break from talking. I swear, by now I could only vaguely understand what she was saying. “Men are, like, all wrong. All square and full of edges. Ladies are,” she let her hands run down her chest and hips. “Softer and nicer. Squeezable.”

We sat shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the nature and I felt my eyelids getting heavier by the second.

“You know who’s squeezable? Dagna.” the feisty elf suddenly blurted excitedly in my ear, making me sit straight up because I was literally dosing off. What an image it would be if someone found a passed out Inquisitor by the well, being under the influence of shady elven drugs.

“Did you?” I snorted in amusement, watching Sera shake her head vigorously. “Do you want to?” an even more enthusiastic nod. “Well, go for it, I have a feeling it’ll be awesome. And tell her about your jar of bees, she’ll _love_ it.”

*******

I heard the stomping even before I saw the scout. I bet it was that guy, Jim, had to be. He was appointed to be the messenger for Cullen and, in Commander’s absence, Cassandra, helping with both correspondence and general errands. All those jokes about mancrushes and eagerness to please - were all true. I admit I had been rather curious if Scout Jim had also been Skyhold’s secret love machine but I had to rely on rumors because I, apparently, still had enough shame to not ask directly.

“Scout?” I arched my eyebrow trying to look graceful and slightly intimidating.

“Inquisitor!” he stopped to take a breather and tried very hard not to look at me directly. Maybe he was scared my holiness will burn his retinas. “The guards had captured a man outside our walls. He, uh, well, uh -”

“Out with it, Jim. He what?”

“Well, he threw a goat at our walls.”

It seems the time for the first judgment had come. And was there ever a more appropriate time for the leader of Inquisition to be as high as a kite? I don’t think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! It had happened, I had written the chapter where Valerie goes back to her beloved elfroot. And the goat judgement. I had this planned since two chapters ago but you know, Teh Angst (TM) took a hold of my very being. Did she ever imagined talking about relationships with Sera? No. Setting her with Dagna? NO. But Sera started. Also, that elf is really difficult to write. I hope I kept her at least a bit in character.
> 
> I might or might not write a recollection of The Goat Judgement in the next chapter.


	16. That's Not Ale Talking

“They will remember it as the great goat hurling judgment of 941 Dragon,” Dorian laughed slamming his drink on the table. “Maker it was magnificent! Oh how I wish I could see my fellow countrymen when our dear Avvar accomplice starts raiding their borders!”

“How can you find it amusing?” Cullen, once again, had been a ray of sunshine. Only you know, not really. “The Inquisitor had allowed the barbarians to pillage innocents that happen to be in their way.”

“It pains me to hear you say such uneducated things, Commander,” Dorian looked anything but distraught, examining his perfectly polished nails. “Avvar have honor. Perhaps even more then some of your own troops. They will not attack those who pose no challenge.”

“Do not argue with Curly, his heightened sense of justice always gets in the way of conversation.” with a grunt Varric unloaded the next round of drinks, displaying excellent memory of who had ordered what and settled down next to the Inquisitor. Meanwhile she, I mean I, was reveling in this innocent banter and kept slowly sipping from my huge drink.

“I told you not to call me that, _dwarf_.” I swear Cullen’s intonation made the temperature in the room drop a bit. Both Anchor and the withdrawal were hitting him hard and Cullen had close to zero patience for people’s jabs.

“Come on, Varric, let Cullen be.” I said loudly but not loud enough to drown the kissing noises Sera made. I mean, I think it was her. Nobody else would be that immature. Cullen’s eyebrows flew up as he shot me a surprised glance and I felt my cheeks getting warmer by the second.

“Sorry, need some air.” I blurted out and skidaddled, but not before taking my ale with me.

***

Tethras caught up with me outside and effectively blocked my escape route, herding me in towards the nice warm spot in the sun, away from other people. I had an inkling why he went after me - the moment Cassandra set her foot outside Skyhold, Varric was trying to get my attention but inquisitorial free time was spread rather thin and, in fact, this tavern down time was quite overdue.

“We have to talk.”

Great opening line, that one. Usually it means someone is dead, pregnant or otherwise direly incapacitated.

“What, did someone die?” I whispered dramatically, taking a huge gulp of my drink.

“Well, all the time but this is not why I’m here,” Varric crossed arms on his chest. “I have a solution to our Warden problem,” he paused. “In a way.”

“Are you talking about, uh, a certain someone Cassandra used to be interested in?”

“How do you -,” he grunted and rubbed his forehead. “No matter but hey, I can get us Hawke. _The_ Hawke. Will take a bit of time and some luck but I think I finally tracked her down.”

“Finally? Cassandra will kill you, you know.” I answered with a dramatic emphasis on ‘will’.

Apart from the fact that I knew - in intimate detail - what went down in Kirkwall, the Tale of the Champion was easily accessible both via Skyhold’s library and private collections. I had borrowed Cullen’s copy once and it did not disappoint - the book was red with corrections and notes on how the things had _really_ happened.

“The Seeker will have to catch me first,” Varric huffed and stuffed thumbs behind his belt. “Contrary to the popular belief I did not know where the Champion was. She would always be the one to contact me.”

“Hey, I believe you,” I shot bright smile in dwarf’s direction. “I’ll put a good word for you.”

“Make sure it is _before_ she throws me off the battlements.” Varric chuckled and then we both fell silent for a while. I just kept drinking my booze and watching birds trying to get laid on the small clearing right in front of us.

“So how’s this Inquisitor thing working out for you, Doodles?”

The nickname irritated me somewhat but once given, it stuck to you like herpes and I did not have to look far for a very good example. That aside, you might have wiggled your eyebrows in soundless surprise that Varric was aware of the switcheroo. As per usual, the issue was heatedly debated, with Cullen and Leliana being the opposing team while myself, Josie and Cassandra united on the other side of the metaphorical fence. We’ve claimed the victory, but not before Cullen accused me of putting in danger the existence of the Inquisition itself. To which I very venomously replied that if that is his opinion, than perhaps he should have taken the morphing potion and be the perfect Inquisitor, while I would gladly fill his sexy armor. Okay, I did not _actually_ say sexy. Might have thought that though…

“I get by. The goat guy will be the pinnacle of my career,” I tried to say it as neutral as possible but the loud snort could not have been contained. “Seriously, it was awesome. You know that Bull had actually suggested we should have taken him in our team?”

“Imagine Curly’s face!”

“Don’t really have to,” I shrugged and nodded in the direction of the tavern. “Here’s Johnny!”

My reference was wasted on the ignorant but the general idea carried itself through the cultural gap and Varric bode me a rather quick farewell, saying he would let me know how the search is going. Cullen watched him leave and then came closer. Only now I noticed that he was trailed by the sweet summer child Jim.

“Were you making jokes about me again, Inquisitor?” he asked flatly but I swear he facepalmed mentally.

“Of course Commander,”I saluted him with my ale. “After all, I am the meanest to the ones I like the most.”

Cullen opened his mouth, closed it again and I saw his ears slowly pinking up. Gloved hand flew up and I watched the fingers tangle in golden locks. Aw, Commander got _shy_. If I was less buzzed I would absolutely not say that last thing about liking people. This realization would occur to me later in bed and result in some facepalming of my own.

“I, ah, just got a word from Leliana,” Cullen cleared his throat and groped for the pommel of his sword - his grounding point, just as I always thought. “Both her and Lady Ambassador would like to discuss the upcoming event at the Winter Palace.”

 _Oh crap._ Maker be my witness, I will fight tooth and nail for the appropriately coloured uniforms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the opening sentence belongs to Mayamelissa and her comment on the previous chapter. It was perfect, I HAD to use it.
> 
> I kind of actually thinking of writing a completely self indulgent one shot AU of AU where Cullen and Valerie both have to take the morphing potion. How does Commander accept in being tiny elf? And seeing Valerie as himself strolling around and being generally pain in the arse of all sorts. XD
> 
> Ah the Winter Palace. One of those things you have to interfere with, loudly, in order to avoid The Most Atrocious Uniform Ever.


	17. Chapter In Which Word Fuck is Mentioned Many Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see that the last time I have updated this was half a year ago. I admit, I have been mercilessly stuck both in the epic writing block and real life. I wanted to write this fic so badly (because it is fun) and yet I couldn't. Plus, adulting got in the way. If there is anyone out there who is waiting for an update - here it is. Forgive me for it taking so long :(
> 
> As per usual I welcome any comments and kudos. They make me happy :3

Once you heard someone hurl at least three times, your relationship, whatever it may have been, had reached a new level. Since the arrival at Emprise du Lion Cullen had been continuously sick, plagued by migraines and unable to keep food down, all thanks to our good friend red lyrium. We’ve tried to set the camp as far away from any blighted nodes as possible but you have seen the place, the mission was, as they say, impossible.

Not a day would pass by without a mage or a templar complaining to the Commander about the headaches and nausea who, in turn, would complain to me and all I could do is sigh deeply and hide my head behind yet another report. Sifting through requisitions and petitions was not my task but Cullen had not been himself, refusing to help and exhibiting the phenomenal lack of patience. A recruit holding the sword wrong would set him off, resulting in the whole unit being sent to dig latrines in the frozen soil behind the camp. People were unhappy and the situation was not getting better.

“How long are we to stay in this Maker cursed land?” Cullen was not into pleasantries these days. He leaned forwards and planted a finger on the map, hitting Halamshiral with a precision of a sniper. “We are wasting time.”

“Mistress, uh, Whatshername requested our help.”

“Poulin, Valerie,” Cullen sighed and rubbed his forehead. “If you are so kind to respond to a plea, at least remember the name.” he dropped in the nearby chair and yanked the collar of his shirt open. In a weird kind of fascination I watched a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Gloves came off second and he flexed his fingers. It did not escape my sight that his hands were trembling slightly. “Why are you stalling?”

“Do you know what the Forbidden Ones are?”

“Demons.”

Well, someone did their Chantry homework very well.

“All this,” I outstretched my hand dramatically, assuming Cullen would understand I do not mean the tent. “Is the doing of Imshael, one of the demons up at Suledin Keep. Though he _insists_ on being referred to as the spirit of choice.”

“How do you -,”

“How do I anything, Cullen?” I pursed my lips together and gave him a sour glare. “In order for this to go down as it should, we are missing someone.”

“You have to be joking!” Cullen was towering above me now and looked… Let’s say rather angry. I had no idea why I told him what I did. I should have imagined some bullshit excuse that made more sense but I got used to opening up to him. Most of the time the Commander went along with my ‘revelations’ but that was before he had to battle the continuous dark hum of the lyrium in his head. “I cannot let it continue. Your selfishness - ”

“Cullen, there is a powerful demon here poisoning the land and that person dealt with - ”

“At this point I do not care!” he snarled and I saw the Anchor on his hand beginning to pulse faster. “I will go and hunt that abomination down myself if it means we can leave this Void cursed hole.”

This must have been a spectacular view to see if you were into slapstick comedy. Determined and utterly pissed off Commander was marching towards the stables with a tiny fragile stick of an elf desperately clinging to his elbow and trying to stop him from leaving. Let us be honest, it would have been hardly possible when I was a human and it was completely impossible now. I swear, just being in the vicinity of lyrium was making Cullen physically stronger and that was atop of irritable and absolutely unreasonable. While he was donning his armour I ordered the stable master not to give the Commander any horses. One furious stare was enough for the poor sod to ‘Zoidberg’ out of the way, allowing Cullen to grab the fastest steed, mount it and zap out of my vision and through the gates.

I swear I stood there, flapping with my eyelashes in total disbelief and only one thought was racing in my head and bouncing loudly off the walls.

_Fuckidy-fuck-FUCK!_

*******

By the time I found Solas, Cullen had a nice head start and, most likely, was halfway to the Keep. The thought of him alone out there with Red Templars made my stomach churn.

_Forget the templars, idiot! What about him being alone with all the lyrium he can have his hands on?_

Why thank you, brain! I needed that.

“Inquisitor!” I blinked and turned towards Solas, who was fasting his horse to a nearby tree. “Where did you say the Commander gone off to?”

“Uh, Suledin Keep.”

I could see it in his eyes that the Egg had recognized the name. I squinted at him and inched closer.

“You know the name?”

“I do.”

“Did you see it in the Fade?” I did not try to hide my sarcasm on that one but Solas did not even twitch an eyebrow.

“No, Inquisitor. I have been to this region before and I know the layout. Suledin Keep used to be one of the ancient elven strongholds,” he paused. “Evil dwells within its walls, we should hurry.”

As I walked ahead, I swear I heard Solas mutter under his breath something about ‘it liking playing with its food’.

*******  
The Keep’s main square was right ahead when Solas had suddenly turned around and readied his staff.

“We are being followed.”

“Are you the Inquisitor?” a lonely figure at the bottom of the stairs called out and I realized I’ve been holding my breath for the last half a minute. 

Just one man, we can deal with that. I shielded my eyes against the blinding sun and tried to recognise the pursuer. Blond hair and atrociously tacky armour, slight fake French accent. The latter, of course, hardly being a defining feature in these lands but I can recognise a chevalier when I see one, thank god for that. I could have been me and just called him by name but after Cullen had spectacularly crapped out on me I decided to pretend and play stupid. I gracefully signalled Solas to stand down (oh I bet he hated that!) and came down half way the stairs.

“A lonely chevalier? Dragons are the other way, Ser - ”

“I am no Ser, Inquisitor and what I seek are much more devious and dangerous than a simple beast.”

“According to my companion there is great evil dwelling in the ruins.”

“I am well aware of that, Lady Inquisitor,” the knight smirked but the hard resolve did not leave his eyes. “Me and this _evil_ have an - unfinished business to discuss and I would like to join you. In exchange for the chance to battle the fiend I will offer my services to your Inquisition.”

I opened my mouth. Then closed it. Then made it look like I am sizing the chevalier and estimating his chances of being an useful asset. I had to be very inquisitorial about this.

“What do you know about this evil, Michel de Chevin?”

I could see that the fact I knew his name surprised the man but only briefly. He composed himself and took a short bow.

“It seems no introductions are needed, Lady Inquisitor. The evil we speak of is a powerful demon who preys on the deepest desires and offers to make them true. For a price. I tried to trick it once and in doing so set the monster free,” Michel stopped for a moment and curled his fingers around the pommel of his sword. A familiar neurotic gesture I have seen in Cullen as well. “My mistake cost lives of a Dalish clan. I cannot bring them back but I can make sure that never happens again.”

“My, ah, how do I put it gently… Unwell Commander darted off to fight that thing.” I worried my lip and turned around to look up the stairs. “Please tell me I will not have to scrape him off the walls and write letters to his family.”

“You are in luck, Inquisitor. It so happens Imshael gets bored quickly and a confused angry human can be a nice source of entertainment.”

*******

Angry humans can indeed be a valid source of entertainment. Don’t tell me you have never watched YouTube videos of someone smashing a car with a baseball bat. Or bunch of mascots kicking a dude in the middle of the road at night. It is hilarious, as long as you are not the target of the mascot rage. Or your friends are. Or a potential confusing love interest.

I sprinted up the stairs and tumbled out on the arena only to find it absolutely empty. I mean I always had problems with estimating time but come on, it could have not been _that_ bad. Unless Cullen was dead.

_Oh dear god of fucking hell oh sh-_

“It’s about time, Inquisitor, I was running out of corridors to send your feisty Commander through.”

I snapped my head to the right to see a lonely figure standing near the ruined fountain, smile beaming on the man’s rather brash looking face. Before the thought of asking what in the fucking hell did he even mean, the blonde demon snapped his fingers, cocked his head sideways and put a finger to his lips, asking us to keep quiet.

A moment later the wall in front of us had shimmered away as a mirage, leaving a clear opening through which I _think_ I saw Cullen charge, shield first. The dusty blur, let’s assume it _was_ the Commander, rammed the fountain and fell backwards, getting covered in even more dust and dirt.

I snorted under my breath. I am a horrible person and this was absolutely the wrong situation but what did I just say about it being amusing when other people do a mighty stupid? Feeling rather guilty on account of having such thoughts I scurried over to, thank fucking god, Cullen. He coughed and threw the shield aside, trying to stand up. That did not go as planned and he had to grab the edge of the involuntary star of the hour - the fountain - to keep steady.

“Why I do love the audience,” Imshael chirped and disappeared from sight, only to reappear next to the Commander. “A lonely addict.”

_Poof!_

“A man of mystery to some, an open book to others. ” Solas’ face soured and he moved away from the fiend.

_Zap!_

“Michel de Chevin… Oh it has been a _while_ ,” Gracefully avoiding chevalier’s slash at him with a dagger, the demon walked towards me, his soft hand petting me on a cheek like I was pized horse. “And the lovely Inquisitor, ” he narrowed his eyes and then popped them wide open, small smile on his lips. “Unreadable, how quaint.”

“Enough of this!” the chevalier barked and unsheathed his longsword, stepping forward. “It _has_ been a while and it ends now. You shall answer for - ”

“A dead Dalish clan, I know,” Imshael crossed his arms and sized Michel down. “They imprisoned me to do their bidding and deserved to suffer as I did. But not all, you know. I let the children go.”

“Children without a clan on the brink of a harsh winter. Hardly a mercy.” Solas said calmly, staring right at the demon.

“I would rather you, of all, reserve your judgement, _hedge mage._ ”

With the next snap of the fingers I felt like someone punched air out of my lungs and when I tried to move I could not. I could blink, thank the Maker - dry eyeballs are the worst. Breathing seemed to work as well. I tried to say something and nothing came out, so I resulted to an angry huff. Fucking Stasis Cage, I could bet my fake elf ears it was one of those. Solas and de Chevin were both caught where they stood.

“You three are of little interest to me right now but I know how to recognise a desperate soul,” Imshael smiled once again and crossed his arms. “Commander, let us have a chat.”

Cullen tried to break free but the magic kept him bound from the shoulders down. “I do not converse with demons.”

“A demon? You wound me. I am but a humble spirit of choice. Would I give you any if I were a demon?” Imshael paused as if listening to something and then clasped his hands together. “Where to even start? You, sir, are a treasure trove!”

He circled around Cullen like a shark in a movie, the fake friendly demeanour giving way to a predatory expression. Like if an above-mentioned shark could emote its basic but powerful feelings towards the seal.

“The hunger is gnawing on you, Commander. And we both know you will never be free of it. Once and addict - always an addict. And look what it did to you? In your addled state you have endangered the Inquisitor herself by letting her come here,” his lips were almost touching Cullen’s ear but I could hear every word as if Imshael was speaking to me. “How long can she tolerate this behaviour, you think? And how long can you keep pretending you have it under control? I can help you with that.”

The demon de-attached himself from the Commander and walked towards de Chevin, casually letting a hand rest upon chevalier’s shoulder.

“Give me the knight. I might kill him, might keep him around. Elf - blooded are a peculiar lot. Pretty too.”

“Some spirit of choice you are.” Cullen’s voice was full of disdain. “A human life for a personal gain.”

“Oh but since when is it a difficult choice for you, _Knight - Captain_ ?”

“Don’t you even dare to - ”

“Remind you how many mages in the Gallows suffered for your personal choice of comfort?”

Cullen did not reply but hung his head, dishevelled curls hiding his face.

“There is also a matter of the issues most private. Well less so, now that we have an eager audience.” Imshael chuckled softly and reappeared next to me. 

I tried to make myself little, as impossible as it was, and closed my eyes. Apparently the demon could not read my mind but I did not want to take my chances and started reciting whatever I could remember from ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ in my head. But it was Cullen who still kept the fiend’s attention, thank god for all that angst concentration per one square meter.

“What do you gain by humiliating me that way? I will not choose.” the Commander hissed, following Imshael’s every move.

“Humiliating? I would never! I am just trying to make you see how better off you can be by making one very simple choice. A life of someone you don’t know for well-being and companionship. Aren’t you tired of feeling broken, unable to provide affection and comfort for those you hold dear?”

“Lies, _demon_. Let me go and I will show you the choice I _am_ willing to make. It results in you on the ground and with my sword stuck through your filthy lying mouth.”

Imshael clicked his tongue as if in disappointment but his face was that of a fat lazy cat who got into the cream.

“Templars, always so difficult and unwilling to cooperate. Fun for a while but hardly worth the long term effort. Now it is my turn, “ he was snaking around us, peering in our faces and looking rather satisfied. “I can kill all of you with ease but fighting is tedious and hardly entertaining,” he stopped between Solas and de Chevin once again giving both in turn a sly wink. “This is almost like a family reunion. I am grateful for the opportunity to see familiar faces, Inquisitor. I got what I wanted from your pet templar and it was magnificent! You yourself are a curious being and I will be following your progress, Lady Lavellan, with much interest. Enjoy my gift of freedom.”

Without further ado, Imshael turned around, grabbed the chevalier by the chin and placed a kiss on the knight’s lips.

“I will see _you_ later, plaything.”

The spell that kept us frozen in place had disappeared alongside with the demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this chapter is a bit of a whackadoodle. Cullen is OOC. but that was intentional and lyrium is to blame. Suffice to say the dude gonna regret his horrible behavior once they are out of the vicinity of the Blighted Lyrium and there gonna be extra guilty stuttering.
> 
> Now, Imshael. Originally quite the eldritch horror in the books (as a Forbidden one should be, d'uh) he was more sassy in the game. I enjoy the sass and so in this AU version the 'spirit of choice' is a huge bored troll that can squish you if you annoy him but toying with people is much more fun. Think of him like a more powerful version of Marvel's Loki. And apparently there is some weird Imshael/de Chevin pairing going on there. The demon Bugs Bunnied him alright but is it part of the trolling? NOBODY KNOWS.
> 
> And Solas? Still as shifty as ever.


End file.
